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AMERICAN    DUCK  SHOOTING 


IQ  03  ^ 


O     -r. 


<  5 


AMERICAN 
SHOOTING 

Sj^  George  Bird  ^rinnell 

^yiuihor  of  PAWNEE  HERO  STORIES 
a.nd  FOLK  TALES  ^  BLACKFOOT 
LODGE  TALES  ^  THE  STORY  OF  THE 
INDIAN  ^  THE  INDIANS  OF  TODAY,  etc. 

With  Fifty-eight  Portraits  of  J^orih 
American  ^y^an^;,  Gee^e  and  DucKj"  by 
EDWIN  SHEPPARD 

aLnd  n\in\ero\is  Vignettes  in  the  text  by 
WILMOT  TOWNSEND 


9  O     t  ■>» 


Published  by  Willis  McDonald  &  Company 
NEW  YORK 


PREFACE. 


HIS  VOLUME  DEALS  WITH 
duck  shooting,  past  as  well  as 
present,  and  with  the  different 
ways  in  which  the  sport  has  bee?i 
and  is  practiced.  It  tells  of  an 
abundance  of  fowl  in  the  land, 
not  to  be  seen  to-day,  nor  perhaps  ever  again.  It 
contains  accounts  of  shooting,  often  by  unwise 
methods,  often  to  unnecessary  excess;  of  shooting 
which  has  reduced  the  multitudes  of  our  fowl  from  what 
they  were  to  what  they  are.  Such  accounts  may  well 
serve  as  warnings  to  us,  teaching  us  now  the  exercise  of 
a  moderation  we  were  too  thoughtless  to  deem  necessary 
in  the  old  days. 

Since  the  several  methods  of  duck  shooting  necessarily 
grade  into  one  another,  there  will  often  be  in  one  ac- 
count repetition  of  what  has  been  said  in  another.  This 
seems  inevitable,  however,  if  a  clear  idea  is  to  be  given 
of  each  variety  of  the  sport. 


976330 


4  PREFACE. 

In  the  accuracy  of  the  descriptions  of  the  different 
species  of  wildfowl  every  confidence  is  felt,  for  they  have 
passed  under  the  eye  of  Mr.  Robert  Ridgw  ay,  the  former 
President  of  the  American  Ornithologists  Union,  zvhose 
eminence  in  his  chosen  field  of  life  work  is  so  well 
known.  I  owe  him  cordial  thanks  for  his  kindness  in 
this  matter,  as  well  as  for  various  suggestions,  looking 
toward  making  more  complete  the  technical  portion  of 
the  book. 

The  book  covers — as  it  should — a  zvide  range  of  terri- 
tory; for  a  volume  on  wildfowl  shootifig,  if  limited  to 
the  experiences  of  a  single  individual,  would  furnish 
but  an  inadequate  presentation  of  the  subject  for  the 
whole  continent.  In  the  endeavor  to  make  the  volume 
justify  its  title,  assistance  has  been  asked  from  gun- 
ners whose  experience  has  been  longer  than  mine,  or  has 
extended  over  shooting  grounds  with  which  I  am  not 
familiar. 

My  friends,  Messrs.  Wm.  Trotter  and  C.  R.  Purdy, 
both  duck  shooters  of  long  experience,  have  kindly  aided 
me  on  different  points,  and  my  acknowledgjnents  are 
due  to  them. 

The  portraits  of  wildfowl  by  Mr.   Edwin  Sheppard, 


PREFACE.  5^ 

so  well  knoivn  as  the  illustrator  of  Baird,  Brewer  & 
Ridgzuays  great  work  and  of  Mr.  Elliofs  trilogy  of 
game  bird  volumes,  speak  for  themselves. 

The  pen  sketches  drawn  by  Mr.  Wilmot  Townsend 
hardly  need  be  commented  on.  Mr,  Townsend  is  an  en- 
thusiastic gunner  and  has  devoted  much  time  to  study- 
ing  wildfowl  in  their  homes.  The  drawings  which  he 
has  made  will  call  up  to  every  gunner  of  experience 
memories  of  a  happy  past. 

Mr.  William  Brewster  has  kindly  permitted  me  to 
use  the  photographs  illustrating  the  nesting  of  the 
Golden  Eye^  which  accompanied  his  interesting  paper  on 
the  subject  in  the  Auk. 

The  very  useful  chart  of  the  duck,  in  the  back  of  the 
book,  is  taken  by  the  kind  permission  of  the  author  from 
Mr.  Charles  B.  Cory  s  Birds  of  Eastern  North  America 
^Water  Birds.  G.  B.  G. 

October^  igoi. 


CONTENTS, 


PAGE 

Preface » 3 


PART  I. 


THE  DUCK  FAMILY. 

SWANS 33 

American  Swan c . . .  34 

Trumpeter  Swan 36 


GEESE  AND  BRANT 39 

Blue  Goose 43 

Lesser  Snow  Goose 46 

Greater  Snow  Goose 48 

Ross's  Goose 51 

White-fronted  Goose 53 

Canada  Goose 56 

Hutchins's   Goose 58 

Western  Goose 58 

Cackling  Goose 59 

Barnacle   Goose 65 

Brant 67 

Black  Brant 69 

Emperor  Goose 72 

7 


8  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

TREE  DUCKS 75 

Black-bellied  Tree  Duck .....,., , 76 

Fulvous-bellied  Tree  Duck 79 


THE  TRUE  DUCKS. 

NON-DIVING  DUCKS 85 

Mallard 87 

Black  Duck  or  Dusky  Duck 93 

Florida  Dusky  Duck 95 

Mottled  Duck 97 

Gadwall 103 

European  Widgeon 107 

American  Widgeon,  Bald-pate 110 

European  Teal 116 

Green-winged  Teat 118 

Blue-winged  Teal 122 

Cinnamon  Teal 126 

Shoveller 131 

Pintail 134 

Wood  Duck 139 

DIVING  DUCKS 143 

Rufous-crested  Duck i45 

Canvas-back  Duck i47 

Redhead  Duck 160 

Broad-bill 164 

Little  Black-head 167 

Ring-necked  Duck 170 

Golden-eye.  Whistler 173 

Barrow's  Golden-eye 178 

BUFFLE-HEAD    DuCK l8l 

Old-squaw,  Long-tailed  Duck 185 

Harlequin  Duck 189 

Labrador  Duck. 192 


CONTENTS.  9 

PAGE 

Steller's  Duck 195 

Spectacled  Eider 197 

Com  mon  Eider 200 

American  Eider , 202 

Pacific  Eider 205 

King  Eider 208 

American  Scoter 211 

American  Velvet  Scoter 213 

Velvet  Scoter 216 

Surf  Scoter,  Skunk-head 217 

Ruddy  Duck 220 

Masked  Duck 223 


FISH  DUCKS ■ 225 

American  Merganser 226 

Red-breasted  Merganser,  Sheldrake 230 

Hooded  Merganser 234 


PART  II. 


WILDFOWL  SHOOTING. 

SWAN  SHOOTING 244 

GOOSE  SHOOTING 250 

On  the  Stubbles 251 

On  the  Sand-bars 254 

With  Live  Decoys 260 

Driving 274 

BRANT  SHOOTING 279 

From  a  Battery 279 

Bar  Shooting 294 


10  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

DUCK  SHOOTING 317 

Pass  Shooting 317 

Shooting  in  the  Overflow 33s 

River  Shooting 335 

In  the  Wild  Rice  Fields 351 

Cornfield  Shooting  in  the  Middle  West 371 

Point  Shooting ^jy 

Sea  Shooting  on  the  Atlantic 418 

Wading  the  Marshes 430 

Battery  Shooting i 433 

Shooting  from  a  House-boat 440 

Ice  Hole  Shooting 447 

Winter  Duck  Shooting  on  Lake  Ontario 453 

Shooting  in  the  Ice 455 

Sailing 460 

Stubble  Shooting 461 

California  Marsh  Shooting 464 

Chesapeake  Bay  Duck  Shooting 472 


PART    III. 


THE   ART  OF  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

GUNS  AND  LOADING 493 

How  TO  Hold 502 

When  to  Shoot , 506 

Flight  of  Ducks. 508 

Etiquette  of  the  Blind 510 

CHESAPEAKE  BAY  DOG 515 

DECOYS 522 

Wooden  Decoys 522 

Live  Decoys 526 

Breeding  Wildfowl 532 


CONTENTS. 


II 


PAGE 

BLINDS.  BATTERIES  AND  BOATS 546 

How  Blinds  are  Made 54^ 

The  Battery 549 

Skiffs  and  Sneak  Boats 557 

Other  Craft 573 

Ice  Work 572 


THE  DECREASE  OF  WILDFOWL. 

CAUSES 582 

Spring  Shooting 589 

Contraction  of  Feeding  Grounds 593 

Size  of  Bags 594 

Natural  Enemies 59^ 

Lead   Poisoning 59^ 

Self-denial  Needed 603 

Batteries  and  Bush  Blinds 605 

Night   Shooting 607 

What  Shall  be  Done? 608 


J 


I       •      !'■.' 


r   ;  ; ., 
.  I  ' 


» 


•      111' 
I'    ••  .  1 
.III 


■  1  I ' 


1     ! 


^ 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


FULL-PAGE   PLATES. 

PAGE 

The  Canvas-back        ....  Frontispiece 

From  Audubon's  "Birds  of  America." 

The  Black  Duck  .  .  .  .  .  .  .63 

From  Audubon's  "Birds  of  America." 


The  Shoveller 

From  Audubon's  "Birds  of  America,' 

The  Redhead 

From  Audubon's  "Birds  of  America.' 


.        .    127 


191 


A  Golden-eye  Nesting  Place  .  .  .  .  .      ,  255 

Photographed  by  Wm.    Brewster. 


A  Prairie  Shooting  Wagon  .  .  .  .  .      .  509 

Goose  Decoys  on  a  Bar q;78 


14  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PORTRAITS   OF  SPECIES. 

PAGE 

American  Swan 34 

Trumpeter  Swan 36 

Blue  Goose 43 

Lesser  Snow  Goose 46 

Greater  Snow  Goose 48 

Ross's  Goose 51 

White-fronted  Goose 53 

Canada  Goose 56 

HuTCHiNs's  Goose 57 

White-cheeked  Goose 57 

Cackling  Goose 59 

Barnacle  Goose 65 

Brant 67 

Black  Brant 69 

Emperor  Goose 72 

Black-bellied  Tree  Duck 76 

Fulvous-bellied  Tree  Duck 79 

Mallard 87 

Black  Duck  or  Dusky  Duck 92 

Florida  Dusky  Duck 95 

Mottled  Duck 97 

Gadwall 103 

European  Widgeon 107 

American  Widgeon,  Bald-pate no 

European  Teal 116 

Green-winged  Teal ■: 118 

Blue-winged  Teal 122 

Cinnamon  Teal 126 

Shoveller 131 

Pintail 134 

Wood  Duck 139 

Rufous-crested  Duck 145 

Canvas-back  Duck 137 

Redhead  Duck 160 

Broad-bill 164 

Little  Black-head 167 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  15 

PAGE 

Ring-necked  Duck 170 

Golden-eye,  Whistler i73 

Barrow's  Golden-eye • 178 

BUFFLE-HEAD  DuCK l8l 

Old-squaw,  Long-tailed  Duck 185 

Harlequin  Duck 189 

Labrador  Duck 192 

Steller's  Duck I95 

Spectacled  Eider 197 

Common  Eider 200 

American  Eider 202 

Pacific  Eider 205 

King  Eider 208 

American  Scoter. , 211 

American  Velvet  Scoter 213 

Velvet  Scoter 216 

Surf  Scoter,  Skunk-head 217 

Ruddy  Duck 220 

Masked  Duck 223 

American  Merganser 226 

Red-breasted  Merganser,  Sheldrake 230 

Hooded  Merganser 234 


GENERAL  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

A    Canada   Special 281 

The  Battery  Rigged.  Facing  page 434 

Swivel  Guns  from  Spesutia  Island,  Facing  page 435 

Plan  of  Single  Battery 551 

Plan  of  Double  Battery 553 

Sneak  Boat 558 

Nee-pe-nauk  Boat 560 

LoYD  Boat 561 

Sassafras  Dug-out 562 

Mexican   Cypress   Pirogue 563 


w 


i6 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

Wolf  River  Canoe 563 

Bob  Stanley  Boat 564 

Senachwine  Iron  Skiff 565 

Hennepin  Duck   Boat 566 

Monitor  Marsh  Boat 567 

De  Pere  Red  Cedar  Boat 567 

Mississippi  Scull  Boat 568 

Koshkonong  Flat  Boat 569 

Koshkonong  Monitor 569 

Tolleston  Boat 570 

North   Canoe 571 

Fifty   Vignettes  in   Text. 
Chart  of  Duck  Bound  in  with  Back  Cover. 


^<v^^^ 


PART  I 


THE  DUCK  FAMILY 


THE  DUCK  FAMILY. 


No  group  of  birds  is  more  important 'to 'mail  than 
that  known  as  the  duck  family.  They  are  cal'ed  tho 
Anatidco,  from  the  Latin  word  Anas,  a  duck*;  and  be- 
long to  the  Order  Anseres,  or  Lamellirostral  Swim- 
mers,— birds  whose  bills  are  provided  with  lamellae,  «by 
which  are  meant  the  little  transverse  ridges  found  on 
the  margins  of  the  bills  of  most  ducks.  Sometimes  the 
lamellae  appear  like  a  row  of  white  blunt  teeth ;  in  the 
shoveller,  they  constitute  a  fine  comb-like  structure, 
which  acts  as  a  strainer,  while  in  the  case  of  the  mer- 
gansers they  have  the  appearance  of  being  real  teeth, 
which,  however,  they  are  not,  since  teeth  are  always 
implanted  in  sockets  in  the  bone  of  the  jaw ;  and  this  is 
true  of  no  known  birds,  except  some  Cretaceous  forms 
of  Western  America  and  the  Jurassic  Archceopteryx. 

The  bill  is  variously  shaped  in  the  members  of  the 
duck  family.  Usually  it  is  broad  and  depressed,  as  in 
the  domestic  duck ;  or  it  may  be  high  at  the  base  and 
approach  the  conical,  as  in  some  geese ;  broadly  spread, 
or  spoon-shaped,  as  in  the  shoveller  duck,  or  almost 
cylindrical  and  hooked  at  the  tip,  as  in  the  mergansers. 
Whatever  its  shape,  the  bill  is  almost  wholly  covered 


19 


20  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

with  a  soft,  sensitive  membrane  or  skin,  and  ends  at 
the  tip  in  a  horny  process  which  is  termed  the  nail. 
From  this  fact  the  family  is  sometimes  called  Ungui- 
rostres,  or  nail-beaked. 

The  body  is  short  and  stout,  the  neck  usually  long ; 
the  feet  and  legs  are  short.  The  wings  are  moderately 
long  and  stout,  giving  power  of  rapid  and  long-con- 
linued  ^ight.  There  are  various  anatomical  character- 
istics, most  of  which  need  not  be  considered  here. 

One  of  these,  however,  is  common  to  so  many  spe- 
cies, and  is  so  frequently  inquired  about  by  sportsmen, 
that  it  may  be  briefly  mentioned.  In  the  male  of  most 
ducks  the  windpipe  just  above  the  bronchial  tubes  on 
the  left  side  is  expanded  to  form  a  bony,  bulb- 
ous enlargemicnt,  called  the  labyrinth.  Except  in  one 
or  two  species  the  female  does  not  possess  this  enlarge- 
ment, and  there  are  some  of  the  sea  ducks  (Fidi- 
gulincc)  in  which  it  is  not  found.  The  labyrinth 
varies  greatly  in  different  species.  In  some  it  is  round 
and  comparatively  simple,  in  .others  large  and  in- 
stead of  being  more  or  less  cylindrical  in  shape  it  has 
the  form  of  a  long  three-cornered  box.  The  labyrinth 
has  been  stated  to  have  relation  to  the  voice  of  the  bird, 
but  what  this  relation  is  has  yet  to  be  proved. 

In  addition  to  the  labyrinth,  some  species  of  ducks 
have  an  enlargement  of  the  windpipe  near  the  throat, 
and  the  swans  have  the  windpipe  curiously  coiled  with- 
in the  breast  bone. 

The  plumage  of  these  birds  is  well  adapted  for  pro- 
tection against  wet  and  cold.     All  possess  large  oil 


THE    DUCK    FAMILY.  ■  21 

glands,  and  the  overlying  feathers,  which  are  constant- 
ly kept  oiled,  protect  the  down  beneath  them  from  mois- 
ture and  form  a  covering  whose  warmth  enables  the 
birds  to  endure  an  Arctic  temperature.  There  is  a  great 
variety  in  the  coloring  of  the  plumage.  The  sexes  in 
the  sw^ans  and  most  geese  are  alike,  but  in  the  ducks  the 
male  is  usually  more  highly  colored  than  the  female. 
The  males  of  some  species  are  among  our  most  beauti- 
ful birds,  as  the  mallard,  harlequin,  wood  duck  and  the 
odd  little  mandarin  duck  of  Eastern  Asia,  while  in 
others  the  colors  are  duller,  and  in  the  female  and 
young  are  often  extremely  modest  and  subdued.  Most 
of  the  fresh  water  ducks  possess  a  patch  of  brilliant 
iridescent  color  on  the  secondary  feathers  of  the  wing 
which  is  usually  either  green  or  violet.  This  is  called 
the  speculum.  A  less  brilliant  speculum  is  seen  in  some 
of  the  sea  ducks. 

The  males  of  certain  species  possess  peculiar  devel- 
opments of  plumage  ox  of  bill,  such  as  the  curled  tail 
feathers  of  the  mallard,  the  long  pointed  scapulars  and 
long  tail  feathers  of  the  old  squaw  and  the  sprig-tail, 
the  peculiar  wing  feathers  of  the  mandarin  duck,  the 
stiff  feathers  on  the  face  in  some  sea  ducks,  the  crests  of 
many  species,  and  the  singular  processes  and  swellings 
on  the  bills  of  certain  sea  ducks. 

The  Duck  family  is  divided  into  three  sections — the 
Swans,  the  Geese  and  the  Ducks  proper.  These  last 
again  are  subdivided  into  shoal  water  or  river  ducks, 
and  sea  or  diving  ducks. 

The  swans  are  characterized  by  their  large  size  and 


22  .  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

extremely  long  necks,  and  are  usually  white  in  color, 
although  the  Australian  black  swan  forms  a  notable 
exception.  The  naked  skin  of  the  bill  extends  back  to 
the  eyes.  Only  two  species — with  a  European  form 
attributed  to  Greenland — are  found  in  North  America. 
One  of  these,  the  common  swan,  covers  the  whole  coun- 
try, while  the  slightly  larger  trumpeter  swan  is  found 
chiefly  in  the  West.  The  swans  constitute  a  sub-family 
of  the  Anatidce,  and  are  known  to  ornithologists  as  the 
Cygnince. 

Less  in  size  than  the  swans  and  in  form  intermediate 
between  them  and  the  ducks  are  the  geese.  They  have 
necks  much  longer  than  the  ducks,  yet  not  so  long  as 
the  swans.  Like  the  swans,  they  feed  by  stretching 
down  their  necks  through  the  water  and  tearing  up 
vegetable  food  from  the  bottom.  Geese  and  swans  do 
not  dive,  except  to  escape  the  pursuit  of  enemies.  Most 
species  are  found  w^ithin  the  limits  of  the  United  States 
only  in  autumn  or  winter,  and  breed  far  to  the  north, 
although  up  to  the  time  of  the  settlement  of  the  west- 
ern country  the  Canada  goose  commonly  nested  on  the 
prairies  and  along  the  Missouri  River,  sometimes 
building  its  nest  in  trees ;  that  is  to  say,  on  the  tops  of 
broken  cottonwood  stubs,  standing  thirty  or  forty  feet 
above  the  ground.  The  settling  up  of  the  country  has, 
for  the  most  part,  deprived  these  birds  of  their  summer 
home,  and  it  may  be  questioned  whether  they  now 
breed  regularly  anywhere  within  the  United  States, 
except  in  the  Yellow^stone  Park,  where  protection  is 
afforded  them. 


THE   DUCK   FAMILY.  2^ 

With  the  geese  are  to  be  included  the  tree  ducks,  a 
group  connecting  the  sub-famihes  of  the  geese  and  the 
ducks,  and  known  by  naturahsts  as  Dendrocygna. 
They  are  found  only  on  the  southern  borders  of  the 
United  States,  and  thus  will  but  seldom  come  under  the 
notice  of  North  American  sportsmen.  They  are  really 
duck-like,  tree-inhabiting  geese.  There  are  several 
species,  occurring  chiefly  in  the  tropics.     . 

The  true  ducks  are  divided  into  three  groups,  known 
as  Anatince,  or  shoal-water  ducks,  Fuligulince,  or  sea 
ducks,  and  Mergincc,  fish  ducks,  or  mergansers.  These 
three  groups  are  natural  ones,  although  the  birds  be- 
longing to  them  are  constantly  associated  together  dur- 
ing the  migrations,  and  often  live  similar  lives.  No 
one  of  the  three  is  confined  either  to  sea  coast  or  in- 
terior, but  all  are  spread  out  over  the  whole  breadth  of 
the  continent.  In  summer  the  great  majority  of  the 
birds  of  each  group  migrate  to  the  farther  north,  there 
to  raise  their  young,  while  others  still  breed  sparingly 
within  the  United  States,  where  formerly  they  did  so 
in  great  numbers. 

As  is  indicated  by  one  of  their  English  names,  the 
fresh  water  ducks  prefer  fresh  and  shallow  water,  and 
must  have  this  last  because  they  do  not  dive  for  their 
food,  but  feed  on  what  they  can  pick  up  from  the  bot- 
toms and  margins  of  the  rivers  and  pools  which  they 
frequent.  The  sea  ducks,  on  the  other  hand,  are  ex- 
pert divers,  many  of  them  feeding  in  water  from  fif- 
teen to  thirty  feet  deep.  The  food  of  the  mergansers 
is  assumed  to  consist  largely  of  small  fish,  which  they 


24  •  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

capture  by  pursuing  them  under  the  water.  They  are 
expert  divers. 

The  food  of  the  fresh  water  ducks  is  chiefly  vege- 
table, consisting  of  seeds,  grasses  and  roots,  which  they 
gather  from  the  water.  That  of  the  sea  ducks  is 
largely  animal,  and  often  consists  exclusively  of  shell- 
fish, which  they  bring  up  from  the  bottom.  Yet  with 
regard  to  the  food  of  the  two  groups  there  is  no  in- 
variable rule,  and  many  of  the  sea  ducks  live  largely 
on  vegetable  matter,  while  the  fresh  water  ducks  do 
not  disdain  any  animal  matter  which  may  come  in  their 
way.  Both  groups,  with  some  possible  exceptions,  are 
fond  of  grain,  which  they  eat  greedily  when  it  is  ac- 
cessible. The  far-famed  canvas-back  derives  its  de- 
licious flavor  from  the  vegetable  food  which  it  finds  in 
the  deep,  fresh  or  brackish  waters  of  lakes,  slow  flow- 
ing streams  and  estuaries,  while  the  widgeon,  which  is 
one  of  the  typical  fresh  water  ducks  and  is  equally 
toothsome,  feeds  only  in  shoal  water. 

The  flavor  of  any  duck's  flesh  depends  entirely  on  its 
food,  and  a  bird  of  whatever  kind  which  is  killed  after 
living  for  a  month  or  two  in  a  region  where  proper 
vegetable  food  is  to  be  found  will  prove  delicious  eat- 
ing, whether  it  be  canvas-back,  redhead,  widgeon, 
black  duck  or  broad-bill.  On  the  other  hand,  a  black 
duck,  redhead,  broad-bill  or  canvas-back,  which  has 
spent  a  month  or  two  in  the  salt  water,  where  its  food 
has  been  chiefly  shell-fish,  will  be  found  to  have  a 
strong  flavor  of  fish.  Thus  the  fine  feathers  of  a  can- 
vas-back are  not  necessarily  a  guarantee  that  the  bird 


THE   DUCK   FAMILY.  25 

wearing  them  possesses  the  table  quahties  that  have 
made  the  species  famous. 

Hybrids  between  different  species  of  the  fresh  water 
ducks  occur  quite  frequently,  and  many  perfectly  au- 
thentic examples  of  this  have  been  examined  by  com- 
petent authority,  although  in  many  instances  a  sup- 
posed hybrid  is  nothing  more  than  some  species  with 
which  the  gunner  is  unfamiliar.  In  his  great  work, 
*'The  Birds  of  North  America,"  Audubon  figured  a 
hybrid  under  the  name  Brewer's  duck.  Hybrids  be- 
tween the  mallard  and  the  muscovy,  the  black  duck  and 
the  pintail  are  not  uncommon.  One  of  the  latter,  which 
I  still  possess,  I  killed  in  Wyoming,  and  I  have  killed 
several  black  duck-mallard  hybrids  in  North  Caro- 
lina. Besides  these,  ducks  have  been  killed  which  ap- 
pear to  indicate  a  cross  between  mallard  and  gadwall, 
between  teal  and  pintail,  and  even  between  wood  duck 
and  redhead.  On  the  other  hand,  some  years  ago, 
when  my  gunner  picked  up  a  male  English  widgeon 
which  I  had  killed,  he  suggested  that  it  was  a  hybrid 
between  a  redhead  and  a  widgeon. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  hybrids  supposed  to  be  a 
cross  between  the  black  duck  and  mallard,  while  pos- 
sessing the  general  appearance  of  the  black  duck,  ap- 
pear to  exceed  either  parent  in  size,  and  the  males  often 
possess  the  curved  tail  feathers  of  the  male  mallard. 

Ducks  and  geese  are  to  a  great  extent  nocturnal  in 
their  habits.  Many,  if  not  all  of  them,  migrate  by  night, 
and  in  localities  where  they  are  greatly  disturbed  on 
their  feeding  grounds  they  are  likely  to  pass  the  hours 


26  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

of  day  in  the  open  water  far  from  the  shore  and  not 
to  visit  their  feeding  grounds  until  evening  or  even 
dark  night.  In  many  places  along  the  New  England 
coast  it  is  the  practice  during  cloudy  nights,  when  the 
moon  is  large,  to  visit  the  hills  in  the  line  of  flight  to 
shoot  at  the  ducks  and  geese  which  fly  over  from  their 
daily  resting  place  on  the  salt  water  to  their  nightly 
feeding  ground  in  ponds,  rivers  and  shallow  bays,  or 
before  daylight  in  the  morning,  to  resort  to  the  same 
places,  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  shot  at  the  birds  as  they 
fly  back  toward  the  sea. 

During  moonlight  nights  the  birds  frequently  feed 
at  intervals  all  night  long,  and  in  many  places  advan- 
tage is  taken  of  this  habit  to  shoot  them  either  by 
moonlight  or  by  fire  lighting. 

Ducks  are  found  all  over  the  world,  and  appear 
equally  at  home  in  the  tropics  and  on  the  borders  of  the 
Arctic  ice.  There  are  about  two  hundred  known 
species,  of  which  not  far  from  sixty  are  found  in  North 
America.  Their  economic  importance  is  due  not 
merely  to  the  fact  that  they  occur  in  such  numbers  as 
to  furnish  a  great  deal  of  food  for  man,  but  also  be- 
cause of  the  feathers  and  down  which  they  produce. 
To  the  inhabitants  of  many  regions  they  furnish  cloth- 
ing, in  part,  as  well  as  food.  In  some  parts  of  the 
world,  whole  communities  are  largely  dependent  for 
their  living  on  the  products  of  these  birds,  subsisting 
for  portions  of  the  year  entirely  on  their  flesh  and  eggs, 
and  deriving  a  large  part  of  their  revenue  from  the 
sale  of  feathers  and  down.     Many  examples  might  be 


THE    DUCK    FAMILY.  2.J 

cited  of  places  in  northern  latitudes  where  the  gather- 
ing of  eggs,  birds  or  feathers  forms  at  certain  seasons 
of  the  year  the  principal  industry  of  the  people. 

A  familiar  species,  whose  economic  importance  to 
dwellers  in  high  latitudes  can  hardly  be  overestimated, 
is  the  well-known  eider  duck.  This  bird  is  occasionally 
shot  on  the  Long  Island  coast  in  winter,  and  is  then  a 
common  visitor  to  northern  New  England.  Its  slightly 
differing  forms  breed  on  the  sea-coasts  of  the  northern 
parts  of  the  world,  and  are  very  abundant  in  the  Arctic 
regions. 

In  Greenland,  Iceland  and  Norway  the  breeding 
grounds  of  the  eider  duck  are  protected  by  laws  which 
have  the  universal  support  of  the  inhabitants.  Indeed, 
these  breeding  grounds  are  handed  down  from  father 
to  son  as  property  of  great  value.  Every  effort  is  made 
to  foster  and  encourage  the  birds.  Sometimes  cattle 
are  removed  from  islands  where  they  have  been  rang- 
ing in  order  that  the  ducks  may  breed  there  undis- 
turbed, and  a  careful  watch  is  kept  against  depreda- 
tions by  dogs  and  foxes.  According  to  Dr.  Stejneger : 
"The  inhabitants  [of  parts  of  Norway]  take  great  care 
of  the  breeding  birds,  which  often  enter  their  houses  to 
find  suitable  nesting  places,  and  cases  are  authenticated 
in  which  the  poor  fisherman  vacated  his  bed  in  order 
not  to  disturb  the  female  eider  which  had  selected  it  as 
a  quiet  corner  wherein  to  raise  her  young.  In  another 
instance  the  cooking  of  a  family  had  to  be  done  in  a 
temporary  kitchen,  as  a  fanciful  bird  had  taken  up  her 
abode  on  the  fireplace." 


28  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

On  many  of  the  breeding  grounds  in  Iceland  and 
Norway  the  birds  are  so  tame  as  to  pay  little  attention 
to  the  approach  of  strangers.  Often  the  nests  occur  in 
such  numbers  that  it  is  difficult  to  walk  among  them 
without  stepping  on  them.  On  the  little  island  of 
Vidoe,  near  Reikjavik,  almost  all  the  hollows  among 
the  rocks  with  which  the  ground  is  strewn  are  occupied 
by  nests  of  the  birds.  Here,  too,  they  occupy  burrows 
especially  prepared  for  them,  as  with  the  sheldrakes  in 
Sylt. 

In  Baird,  Brewer  and  Ridgway's  ''North  American 
Birds,"  Dr.  T.  M.  Brewer  quotes  Mr.  C.  W.  Shepard, 
who,  in  a  sketch  of  his  travels  in  northern  Iceland, 
gives  the  following  account  of  the  tameness  and  breed- 
ing there  of  the  eider : 

"The  islands  of  Vigr  and  Oedey  are  their  headquar- 
ters in  the  northwest  of  Iceland.  In  these  they  live  in 
undisturbed  tranquillity.  They  have  become  almost  do- 
mesticated, and  are  found  in  vast  multitudes,  as  the 
young  remain  and  breed  in  the  place  of  their  birth. 
As  the  island  (Vigr)  was  approached  we  could  see 
flocks  upon  flocks  of  the  sacred  birds,  and  could  hear 
their  cooing  at  a  great  distance.  We  landed  on  a 
rocky,  wave-worn  shore.  It  was  the  most  wonderful 
ornithological  sight  conceivable.  The  ducks  and  their 
nests  were  everywhere.  Great  brown  ducks  sat  upon 
their  nests  in  masses,  and  at  every  step  started  from 
under  our  feet.  It  was  with  difficulty  that  we  avoided 
treading  on  some  of  the  nests.  On  the  coast  of  the 
opposite  shore  was  a  wall  built  of  large  stones,  just 


THE   DUCK   FAMILY.  29 

above  the  high-water  level,  about  three  feet  in  height 
and  of  considerable  thickness.  At  the  bottom,  on  both 
sides  of  it,  alternate  stones  had  been  left  out,  so  as  to 
form  a  series  of  square  compartments  for  the  ducks  to 
nest  in.  Almost  every  compartment  was  occupied,  and 
as  we  walked  along  the  shore  a  long  line  of  ducks  flew 
out,  one  after  the  other.  The  surface  of  the  water  also 
was  perfectly  white  with  drakes,  who  welcomed  their 
brown  wives  with  loud  and  clamorous  cooing.  The 
house  itself  was  a  marvel.  The  earthen  walls  that 
surrounded  it  and  the  window  embrasures  were  oc- 
cupied by  ducks.  On  the  ground  the  house  was 
fringed  with  ducks.  On  the  turf  slopes  of  its  roof  we 
could  see  ducks,  and  a  duck  sat  on  the  door-scraper. 
The  grassy  banks  had  been  cut  into  square  patches, 
about  eighteen  inches  having  been  removed,  and  each 
hollow  had  been  filled  with  ducks.  A  windmill  was  in- 
fested, and  so  were  all  the  outhouses,  mounds,  rocks  and 
crevices.  The  ducks  were  everywhere.  Many  were  so 
tame  that  we  could  stroke  them  on  their  nests;  and 
the  good  lady  told  us  that  there  was  scarcely  a  duck  on 
the  island  that  would  not  allow  her  to  take  its  eggs 
without  flight  or  fear.  Our  hostess  told  us  that  when 
she  first  became  possessor  of  the  island  the  produce  of 
down  from  the  ducks  was  not  more  than  fifteen  pounds 
in  a  year ;  but  that  under  her  careful  nurture  of  twenty 
years  it  had  risen  to  nearly  one  hundred  pounds  an- 
nually. Most  of  the  eggs  are  taken  and  pickled  for 
winter  consumption,  one  or  two  only  being  left  in  each 
nest  to  hatch." 


iO  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Although  breeding  in  great  numbers  on  the  coast  of 
Labrador  and  in  other  Canadian  waters,  the  eider  duck 
is  practically  not  protected  there,  and  indeed  is  scarcely 
made  use  of  commercially  in  America.  We  have  not 
yet  advanced  sufficiently  to  take  advantage  of  our  op- 
portunities. 

Dr.  Leonhard  Stejneger,  in  the  "Standard  Natural 
History,"  writing  of  the  European  sheldrake 
(Tadorna) — which  must  not  be  confounded  with  any 
of  the  birds  (Mergus)  which  we  of  the  United  States 
call  sheldrakes — almost  parallels  Mr.  Shepard's  ac- 
count, but  on  a  smaller  scale.  He  says :  *The  inhabi- 
tants on  several  of  the  small  sandy  islands  off  the  west- 
ern coast  of  Jutland — notabl}^  the  Island  of  Sylt — have 
made  the  whole  colony  of  sheldrakes  breeding  there  a 
source  of  considerable  income  by  judiciously  taxing 
the  birds  for  eggs  and  down,  supplying  them  in  return 
with  burrows  of  easy  access  and  protecting  them 
against  all  kinds  of  injury.  The  construction  of  such 
a  duck  burrow  is  described  by  Johann  Friedrich  Nau- 
mann,  who  says  that  all  the  digging,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  entrance  tunnel,  is  made  from  above.  On 
top  of  small  rounded  hills,  covered  with  grass, 
the  breeding  chambers  are  first  dug  out  to  a  uniform 
depth  of  two  or  three  feet.  These  are  then  connected  by 
horizontal  tunnels  and  finally  with  the  common  en- 
trance. Each  breeding  chamber  is  closed  above  with  a 
tightly  fitting  piece  of  sod,  which  can  be  lifted  up  like  a 
lid  when  the  nest  is  to  be  examined  and  plundered. 
Such  a  complex  burrow  may  contain   from  ten  to 


THE   DUCK   FAMILY.  3I 

twenty  nest  chambers,  but  in  the  latter  case  there  are 
usually  two  entrances.  The  birds,  which,  on  account 
of  the  protection  extended  to  them  through  ages,  are 
quite  tame,  take  very  eagerly  to  the  burrows.  As  soon 
as  the  female  has  laid  six  eggs  the  egging  commences, 
and  every  one  above  that  number  is  taken  away,  a  sin- 
gle bird  often  laying  twenty  or  thirty  eggs  in  a  season. 
The  birds  are  so  tame  that,  when  the  lid  is  opened,  the 
female  still  sits  on  the  nest,  not  walking  off  into  the 
next  room  until  touched  by  the  egg-gatherer's  hand. 
When  no  more  fresh  eggs  are  found  in  the  nest,  the 
down  composing  the  latter  is  also  collected,  being  in 
quality  nearly  equal  to  eider  down." 

The  importance  of  the  wildfowl  to  the  natives  of 
northern  climes  has  been  indicated,  and  it  is  well  known 
that  in  the  United  States  the  killing  of  these  birds  on 
their  migrations  and  during  their  winter  residence  is  a 
matter  of  some  commercial  moment,  giving  employ- 
ment to  many  men  and  requiring  the  investment  of  not 
a  little  capital.  Years  ago,  when  the  birds  were  far 
more  numerous  than  now,  isolated  posts  of  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  Co.  in  Canada  depended  for  support  dur- 
ing a  part  of  the  year  on  the  geese  that  they  killed  dur- 
ing the  migrations  and  dried  or  smoked.  Gunning  for 
the  market  occupies  many  men  during  the  winter,  and 
the  occasional  great  rewards  received  for  a  day's  work 
in  the  blind  or  the  battery  lead  many  to  make  a  serious 
business  of  it,  though  it  is  quite  certain  that,  taking 
the  season  through,  the  work  will  not  pay  ordinary  day's 
wages  to  the  man  who  guns.     Nevertheless,  we  knew 


32 


DUCK   SHOOTING, 


of  a  gunner  who  in  January,  1900,  killed  $130  wortli 
of  birds  in  a  day,  and  of  another  who  in  February, 
1899,  killed  $206  worth  in  one  day.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered that  this  gunning  is  going  on  during  the  whole 
winter  all  over  the  South  every  day  except  Sunday. 
The  number  of  birds  killed  must  be  very  great  and  must 
far  exceed  those  hatched  and  reared  each  year. 


SWANS. 

SUB-FAMILY  CygflinCB, 

The  swans  are  the  largest  of  our  water  fowl,  and  the 
American  species  measure  nearly  or  quite  five  feet  in 
length.  The  naked  skin  of  the  bill  runs  back  to  the 
eye,  covering  the  lores ;  the  bill  is  high  at  the  base,  but 
broad  and  flattened  toward  the  tip ;  the  tarsus  is  reticu- 
late, and  shorter  than  the  middle  toe.  In  our  species 
the  feathers  do  not  come  down  to  the  tibio-tarsal  joint. 
The  two  American  species  are  white  in  the  adult  plum- 
age, the  immature  birds  being  gray. 

Both  species  belong  to  the  restricted  genus  Olor, 
which  is  distinguished  from  the  true  Cygnus  by  not 
having  a  tubercle  at  the  base  of  the  bill.  Thus  in  the 
ornithologies,  and  in  the  American  Ornithologists' 
Union  Check  List,  the  generic  name  is  given  as  Olorj 
but  the  term  Cygnus  will  answer  the  purposes  of  this 
volume. 

Although  the  two  swans  are  much  alike,  they  may 
readily  be  distinguished  by  the  characters  to  be  here- 
after given ;  that  is  to  say,  the  number  of  the  tail  feath- 
ers and  the  position  of  the  nostril  opening  in  the  bill. 

3S 


iclwo->-  S)\cJ»)i".i^ ^r^sJEsr~Z.=ris— r:i~.^-::3^-=i— ' 


AMERICAN  SWAN. 


Cygnus  columbianus  (Ord), 


The  common  swan  is  slightly  smaller  than  the 
trumpeter,  but  is  colored  like  it,  except  that  on  the 
naked  lores,  just  before  the  eye,  there  is  a  spot  of  yel- 
low. This,  however,  is  not  invariably  present,  and  is 
usually  lacking  in  the  young  birds.  The  tail  feathers 
are  20  instead  of  24,  and  this  with  the  fact  that  the 
nostrils  open  half  way  down  the  bill  (instead  of  being 
in  the  basal  half,  as  in  the  trumpeter  swan),  will  al- 
ways serve  to  distinguish  the  two. 

The  young  are  gray,  with  a  pink  bill,  which  later 
turns  white,  and  finally  black.     As  the  young  grow 

34 


AMERICAN   SWAN.  35 

older,  the  body  becomes  white,  then  the  neck,  and  last 
of  all  the  head. 

During  the  autumn,  winter  and  spring  this  swan 
occurs  in  greater  or  less  abundance  all  over  the  United 
States,  occasionally  being  found  as  far  south  as  Flor- 
ida. It  is  rarely  seen,  however,  off  the  New  England 
coast.  Its  breeding  grounds  are  in  Alaska,  and  Dr. 
Dall  reported  it  common  all  along  the  Yukon,  and  says 
that  it  arrives  with  the  geese  about  May  ist,  but  ap- 
pears coming  down  the  Yukon  instead  of  up  the 
stream.  It  breeds  in  the  great  marshes,  near  the  mouth 
of  that  river. 

This  species  is  said  to  be  much  more  common  on  the 
Pacific  than  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  in  winter  resorting 
in  great  numbers  to  lakes  in  Washington,  Oregon  and 
portions  of  California,  where  it  is  often  found  mingled 
with  the  trumpeter  swan.  It  is  common  in  winter  on 
the  South  Atlantic  coast,  being  usually  abundant  in  the 
Chesapeake  Bay  and  in  Currituck  Sound  and  to  the 
southward.  Congregating  in  great  flocks,  its  snowy 
plumage  and  musical  call  notes  are  pleasing  features  of 
this  wide  water.  Few  swans  are  killed,  and  the  old- 
time  gunners  declare  that  swans  are  as  numerous  as 
they  ever  were,  or  are  even  increasing. 

The  whooping  swan  of  Europe  (Cygnus  cygnus)  is 
supposed  to  occur  in  Greenland,  and  is  therefore  given 
in  the  ornithologies  as  a  bird  of  America.  It  has  not. 
been  taken  on  this  continent.  It  is  white  in  color,  and 
has  the  bill  black  at  the  tip,  with  the  lores  and  basal 
portion  of  the  bill  yellow. 


TRUMPETER  SWAN. 


Cygnus  buccinator  (Rich.). 


The  plumage  of  the  trumpeter  swan  is  white 
throughout;  the  naked  black  skin  of  the  bill  extends 
back  to  the  eyes,  covering  what  is  called  the  lores,  and 
the  bill  and  feet  are  wholly  black.  The  tail  feathers 
are  twenty-four  in  number,  and  this  character  will  dis- 
tinguish it  from  our  only  other  swan,  the  species  just 
mentioned.  The  bill  is  longer  than  the  head,  and  the 
bird  measures  about  five  feet  in  total  length.  The 
spread  of  wings  is  great,  sometimes  ten  feet.  Audu- 
bon records  a  specimen  which  weighed  38  pounds. 

The  young  are  gray,  the  head  often  washed  with 


TRUMPETER  SWAN,  S7 

fusty,  but  grow  whiter  as  they  advance  in  years.  The 
,gray  of  the  head  and  neck  is  the  last  to  disappear.  In 
the  young  the  bill  is  flesh  color  at  the  base,  dusky  at 
tip ;  feet  gray. 

The  trumpeter  swan  is  a  western  species,  and  is 
scarcely  found  east  of  the  Mississippi  River.  Formerly 
it  bred  over  much  of  the  western  country,  though  un- 
doubtedly most  of  the  birds  repaired  to  the  far  North 
to  rear  their  young.  Many  years  ago  I  found  it 
breeding  on  a  little  lake  in  Nebraska,  and  I  have  seen  it 
in  summer  on  the  Yellowstone  Lake,  in  Wyoming. 
The  nest  is  built  on  the  ground,  and  the  eggs  are  white 
lor  cream  color. 

In  agreement  with  what  is  known  of  the  trumpeter 
;swan  in  the  United  States,  its  breeding  grounds  in  the 
North  appear  to  be  inland.  Explorers  give  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  as  one  of  its  resorts,  where  it  is  said  to  be  one 
of  the  earliest  migratory  birds  to  arrive.  It  breeds  on 
the  islands  and  in  the  marshes,  and  on  the  shores  of 
the  fresh  water  lakes,  and  is  said  to  lay  from  five  to 
seven  eggs.  It  is  stated  also  that  it  is  monogamous, 
and  that  the  mating  is  for  life.  During  the  period  of 
the  molt,  when  the  swans  are  unable  to  fly,  they  are 
eagerly  pursued  by  the  Indians,  not  always  success- 
fully, since  they  are  able  to  swim  and  to  flap  over  the 
water  as  fast  as  a  canoe  can  be  paddled.  The  swan 
breeds  also  in  the  barren  grounds  on  the  head  of  the 
Fraser  River,  and  at  various  points  on  the  Mackenzie 
River ;  it  has  been  reported  also  from  Norton  Sound. 

The  note  of  the  trumpeter,  from  which  it  takes  its 


38 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


name,  is  loud  and  resonant,  and  so  closely  resembles 
that  of  the  sandhill  crane  that  it  is  not  always  easy  to 
distinguish  the  two  apart.  Authors  connect  the  great 
power  and  volume  of  the  trumpeter's  voice  with  the 
curiously  convoluted  windpipe  of  the  species.  The 
young  birds  are  very  good  eating,  while  the  older  ones, 
as  a  rule,  are  very  tough  and  hardly  edible. 


4f 


GEESE  AND  BRANT. 

SUB-FAMILY  AnsenncB. 

The  geese  stand  midway  between  the  swans  and  the 
ducks  in  size  and  general  appearance,  though  their  ac- 
tual affinities  are  not  these,  the  swans  and  ducks  being 
more  nearly  related  structurally  than  is  either  group  to 
the  geese.  From  the  swans  the  geese  may  be  distin- 
guished by  their  smaller  size  and  shorter  neck,  by  hav- 
ing the  lores,  or  space  between  the  eye  and  bill,  feath- 
ered instead  of  naked,  and  the  bill  proportionately 
shorter,  deeper  and  much  less  broad,  in  some  forms  ap- 
proaching a  conical  shape.  They  differ  from  the  ducks  in 
their  greater  size,  longer  necks  and  legs,  and  usually  in 
the  shape  of  the  bill,  which  is  relatively  stouter  and  less 
broad  than  in  most  ducks.  An  important  difference  is 
seen  also  in  the  tarsus,  or  naked  portion  of  the  leg, 
between  the  joint  just  where  the  feathers  end  and 
that  below,  where  the  toes  spread  out.  In  the  geese  this 
tarsus  is  covered  with  a  naked  skin,  marked  with  small 
divisions  like  the  meshes  of  a  net,  while  in  the  ducks 
the  front  of  the  tarsus  is  covered  by  overlapping  plates 
which  are  termed  scales  or  scutellse.  Thus  in  the  geese 
the  tarsus  is  said  to  be  reticulate;  in  the  ducks  it  is  scu- 
tellate. 

In  all  our  species  the  sexes  are  alike,  but  they  are  very 


40  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

different  in  some  South  American  and  Old  World 
species. 

In  the  sub-family  are  included  the  dozen  species  and 
sub-species  of  geese  found  in  North  America.  They 
are  divided  into  four  genera,  two  of  which  contain  a 
single  species  each,  the  others  several  each.  One  genus 
is  almost  confined  to  Alaska,  while  another  has  a  gen- 
eral distribution  in  the  Northern  Hemisphere.  The 
snow  goose  and  its  forms  and  the  blue  goose  have  a 
wide  range,  while  little  is  known  about  that  of  Ross's 
goose.  The  dark-colored  or  gray  geese,  included  in  the 
genus  Branta,  are  very  abundant  along  both  coasts  of 
the  continent,  yet  are  by  no  means  lacking  in  the  in- 
terior. They  include  the  common  Canada  goose,  with 
its  forms,  and  the  barnacle  and  brant  geese.  The  brant 
and  its  Western  relative,  the  black  brant,  are  chiefly 
maritime  in  habit,  and  are  seldom  found  in  the  interior. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  snow  goose,  and  some  of  its 
forms,  are  regular  visitants  to  certain  points  on  the  At- 
lantic coast.  A  few  years  ago  a  flock  of  these  birds  was 
always  to  be  found  in  winter  in  the  mouth  of  the  Dela- 
ware River.  Stray  birds  are  sometimes  seen  on  the 
New  England  coast  and  on  Long  Island.  On  the  beach 
which  lies  outside  of  Currituck  Sound  a  flock  of  five 
hundred  or  a  thousand  of  these  birds  is  found  each  win- 
ter. 

The  gray  geese,  so  called,  all  have  the  bills,  feet,  head 
and  neck  black.  There  are  patches  or  touches  of  white 
about  the  cheeks  or  throat,  whence  they  have  been  called 
cravat  geese;  the  upper  parts  of  the  body  are  dark  gray 


GEESE   AND    BRANT,  41 

and  the  belly  and  tail  coverts  white.  The  white- fronted 
goose,  genus  Anscr,  is  much  paler  gray,  has  the  bill  and 
feet  pink,  and  has  no  black  except  spots  on  breast  and 
belly.  In  the  genus  Chen  three  forms  are  pure  white^ 
except  for  the  quill  feathers  of  the  wings,  which  are 
black.  All  have  the  head  white  in  adult  plumage. 
Philacte,  the  Alaska  type,  is  grayish  or  bluish  in  color, 
variously  marked  with  white. 

The  North  American  geese  are  birds  of  powerful 
flight,  non-divers,  well  adapted  for  progression  on  the 
land,  usually  breeders  in  high  latitude,  but  wintering  in 
open  waters.  Some  are  large  birds,  while  others  are 
smaller  than  some  of  the  ducks,  the  weight  in  different 
species  varying  from  1 5  to  3  pounds. 

They  feed  almost  altogether  on  vegetable  matter, 
largely  grass  and  aquatic  plants ;  and  sometimes,  after 
feeding  for  a  time  on  the  roots  of  certain  sedges  and 
other  water  plants,  their  flesh  becomes  very  unpalatable 
from  the  strong  flavor  given  it  by  this  food. 

Geese  are  noisy  birds,  the  voice  of  the  smaller  ones 
being  shrill  and  cackling,  while  the  cry  of  others,  like 
the  common  Canada  goose,  is  sonorous  and  resonant. 

Many  years  ago  the  geese,  during  the  spring  and 
autumn  migration,  were  so  enormously  abundant  in 
portions  of  Minnesota  and  in  California  that  they  did  a 
vast  amount  of  damage  by  eating  the  young  wheat  just 
appearing  above  the  ground.  In  those  days  it  was  pos- 
sible to  approach  quite  close  to  them  on  horseback,  and 
the  rider,  having  gotten  as  near  to  them  as  practicable, 
would  charge  upon  the  feeding  flock,  get  among  them 


42 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


before  they  could  rise  out  of  reach,  and  knock  down 
several  with  a  short  club  which  he  carried  in  his  hand. 
It  may  be  questioned  whether  this  method  of  killing 
geese  has  been  employed  for  a  long  time.  In  more  re- 
cent years  it  is  said  to  have  been  necessary  for  the  Cali- 
fornia ranchers  during  the  migrations  to  employ  armed 
men,  whose  business  it  was  to  ride  about,  shooting  with 
rifles  at  the  feeding  flocks  and  endeavoring  to  keep 
them  constantly  on  the  wing. 


BLUE  GOOSE. 


Chen  ccerulescens  (Linn.). 


In  the  adult  the  head  and  upper  part  of  the  neck  are 
white ;  the  rest  of  the  neck,  breast,  back  and  rump  blu- 
ish, or  brownish-blue,  many  of  the  feathers  with  paler 
edges;  wing  light  bluish  gray;  secondaries  blackish, 
edged  with  white;  primaries  black,  fading  to  gray  at 
the  base;  tail  brown,  white  margined;  under  parts 
brownish  gray  and  white,  sometimes  mostly  white,  and 
upper  and  under  tail  coverts  white,  or  nearly  so.  The 
bill  is  pale  pink,  with  white  nail  and  a  black  line  along 
the  margin  of  each  mandible.  The  legs  and  feet  are 
pink  or  reddish. 

43 


44  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

The  young  resemble  the  adult,  but  have  the  head  and" 
neck  grayish  brown.  The  length  of  this  goose  is  about 
28  inches ;  the  wing  measures  16. 

Like  many  others  of  our  inland  water  fowl,  this 
goose  often  has  the  plumage  of  head,  neck,  breast  and 
belly  stained  with  rusty  orange,  as  if  soiled  by  iron 
rust. 

The  blue  goose  is  an  inhabitant  of  the  interior,  rang- 
ing from  the  Hudson's  Bay  district  south  along  the 
Mississippi  Valley  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  It  is  not 
found  on  either  the  Atlantic  or  Pacific  coast,  except 
that  in  a  few  cases  it  has  been  taken  on  the  extreme 
northern  coast  of  Maine.  Little  or  nothing  is  known* 
about  its  breeding  habits,  though  the  Eskimo  and  In- 
dians are  authority  for  the  statement  that  it  breeds  in 
the  interior  of  Labrador;  and  the  occurrence  of  the 
species  in  Maine  would  seem  to  lend  color  to  this  story. 
Moreover,  Mr.  G.  Barnston,  in  his  paper  on  the  Geese 
of  Hudson's  Bay,  states  that  in  the  migration,  the  blue 
goose  crosses  James  Bay,  coming  from  the  eastern 
coast,  while  at  the  same  time  the  snow  goose  makes  its 
appearance  coming  from  the  north. 

This  species  was  long  thought  to  be  the  young  of  the 
snow  goose,  and  was  so  figured  by  Audubon,  appearing 
on  the  same  plate  with  that  species.  Occasionally  speci- 
mens are  found  which  have  considerably  more  white  on 
them  than  is  given  in  the  description  above,  but  on  the 
whole,  it  seems  to  be  very  well  established  that  the 
species  is  a  valid  one.  The  color  of  the  head  and  upper 
neck  varies  somewhat  with  age,  the  white  of  these  parts. 


BLUE   GOOSE. 


45 


growing  purer  and  less  intermingled  with  dark  feathers 
as  the  bird  grows  older. 

This  is  one  of  the  so-called  brant  of  the  Mississippi 
Valley,  and  is  known  by  a  number  of  names,  among 
which  are  blue  brant,  bald-headed  goose,  white-headed 
goose,  oie  bleu  and  bald  brant.  Being  confined  to  the 
inland  districts  of  the  country,  it  is  shot  chiefly  on  the 
stubbles  or  the  sand  bars  or  in  corn  fields. 


.sfe=^ 


,.  ^i^4^. 


- ^4:*k,, 


s^" 


LESSER  SNOW  GOOSE. 


Chen  hyperhorea  (Pall.), 


The  adult  is  entirely  white,  except  the  primaries,  or 
quill  feathers  of  the  first  joint  of  the  wing,  which  are 
black,  changing  to  ash  gray  at  the  base.  The  bill  is 
dark  red,  with  black  line  along  the  margin  of  man- 
dibles; the  nail  white;  the  legs  and  feet  red;  length, 
about  25  inches;  wing,  15  1-2.  In  the  young  the  head, 
neck  and  upper  parts  are  pale  grayish,  with  the  wing 
coverts  and  tertiary  feathers  brown,  edged  with  white. 
The  primaries  are  black,  and  the  rest  of  the  upper  parts 
white.    The  bill  and  feet  are  dark. 

The  true  snow  goose  is  a  bird  of  Western  distribu- 
tion, reaching  from  the  Mississippi  Valley  westward  to 

46 


LESSER  SNOW  GOOSE.  47 

the  coast,  and  as  far  south  as  Texas  and  Southern  Cali- 
fornia. It,  nevertheless,  occurs  sometimes  on  the  At- 
lantic coast,  and  I  have  known  of  its  being  killed  on 
Long  Island.  It  is  perhaps  the  most  abundant  goose 
found  in  California,  and  occurs  in  large  numbers  all 
over  the  country  from  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi  west 
to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  where  it  is  often  associated 
with  the  larger  snow  goose,  to  be  described  laten  On 
the  plains  of  Montana,  near  the  foot-hills  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  they  are  abundant,  and  when  they  first  ar- 
rive are  quite  gentle,  so  that  I  have  often  ridden  on 
horseback  within  easy  shooting  distance  of  them,  al- 
though a  man  on  foot  would  not  have  been  permitted 
to  approach  so  near. 

In  the  Hudson's  Bay  district  both  forms  of  snow 
goose  are  abundant,  and  in  old  times  used  to  form  an 
important  article  of  subsistence  for  the  Hudson's  Bay 
posts.  Of  late  years,  however,  they  have  become  so 
scarce  that  this  source  of  food  supply  can  no  longer  be 
depended  upon. 

While  the  flesh  of  both  the  snow  geese  is  highly  es- 
teemed by  some  people,  I  have  never  considered  it  de- 
sirable. Usually  it  has  a  strong  taste  of  sedge,  so  pro- 
nounced as  to  be,  to  some  palates,  very  disagreeablCo 


GREATER   SNOW   GOOSE. 


Chen  hyperhorea  nivalis  (Forst.). 

Precisely  similar  in  all  respects  to  the  preceding,  but 
larger.  While  the  length  of  C.  hyperhorea  is  about  2$ 
inches,  with  a  wing  15  1-2  inches,  that  of  the  present 
sub-species  is  34  inches,  with  a  w^ing  over  17  inches. 
The  two  forms  are  often  found  associated  together^ 
and  it  is  frequently  difficult  to  determine  to  which  one 
a  bird  belongs. 

The  snow  geese  differ  from  many  of  their  fellows  in 
feeding  largely  on  the  land.  They  walk  about  much  as 
do  the  domestic  geese,  nipping  the  grass  and  such  other 
herbs  as  please  their  taste,  and  resort  to  the  water 
chiefly  for  resting. 

4» 


GREATER  SNOW  GOOSE.  49 

The  nest  of  the  greater  snow  goose,  as  described  by  . 
Mr.  Macfarlane,  consists  merely  of  a  hollow  or  depres- 
sion in  the  soil,  lined  with  down  and  feathers.     The 
-eggs  are  large  and  are  yellowish- white. 

All  these  interior  geese,  such  as  the  blue  goose  and 
all  the  white  geese,  are  known  among  the  Indians  and 
Hudson's  Bay  people  of  the  north  as  wavies,  the  blue 
goose  being  called  the  blue  wavy,  the  snow  goose  the 
large  wavy,  and  Ross's  goose  the  small  wavy.  The 
larger  snow  goose  is  common  in  Alaska.  They  do  not 
breed  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Yukon,  but  proceed 
further  north  to  rear  their  young.  The  fall  migration 
takes  place  in  September,  and  by  the  end  of  that  month 
all  the  snow  geese  are  gone.  In  summer  they  proceed 
as  far  south  as  Texas  and  Cuba,  where  they  are  re- 
ported as  abundant. 

As  already  remarked,  snow  geese  are  seen  every  win- 
ter in  the  mouth  of  the  Delaware,  and  also  on  the  coast 
of  North  Carolina,  about  Currituck  Sound. 

The  spectacle  of  a  flock  of  these  white  geese  flying  is 
3.  very  beautiful  one.  Sometimes  they  perform  remark- 
able evolutions  on  the  wing,  and  if  seen  at  a  distance 
look  like  so  many  snowflakes  being  whirled  hither  and 
thither  by  the  wind.  Scarcely  less  beautiful  is  the  i^ight 
which  may  often  be  seen  in  the  Rocky  Mountain  region 
during  the  migration.  As  one  rides  along  under  the 
waVm  October  sun  he  may  have  his  attention  attracted 
by  sweet,  faint,  distant  sounds,  interrupted  at  first,  and 
then  gradually  coming  nearer  and  clearer,  yet  still  only 
a  murmur ;  the  rid^r  hears  it  from  above,  before,  behind 


50  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

and  all  around,  faintly  sweet  and  musically  discordant, 
always  softened  by  distance,  like  the  sound  of  far-off 
harps,  of  sweet  bells  jangled,  of  the  distant  baying  of 
mellow-voiced  hounds.  Looking  up  into  the  sky  above 
him  he  sees  the  serene  blue  far  on  high,  flecked  with 
tiny  white  moving  shapes,  which  seem  like  snowflakes 
drifting  lazily  across  the  azure  sky;  and  down  to  earth, 
falling,  falling,  falling,  come  the  musical  cries  of  the 
little  wavies  that  are  journeying  toward  the  south  land. 
They  pass,  and  slowly  the  sounds  grow  faint  and 
fainter,  and  the  listener  thinks  involuntarily  of  the  well- 
known  lines : 

Oh,  hark,  oh,  hear !  how  thin  and  clear, 
And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going ! 

Oh,  sweet  and  far  from  cliff  and  scar 
The  horns  of  Elfland  faintly  blowing ! 

These  birds  and  Ross's  geese  often  stop  to  rest  and 
feed  on  the  Montana  plains  during  their  migration.  I 
have  more  than  once  killed  them  with  a  rifle  at  St. 
Mary's  Lake  in  the  late  autumn,  and  have  started  them 
from  the  little  prairie  pools,  where  they  were  feeding  on 
a  small  farinaceous  tuber,  which  is  the  root  of  some 
water  plant. 


ROSS'S  GOOSE. 


Chen  rossii  (  Cassin  ) . 


In  color  the  plumage  of  the  little  Ross's  goose  is 
precisely  similar  both  in  adult  and  young  to  that  of  the 
larger  snow  geese;  that  is,  pure  white,  except  for  the 
primaries,  which  are  black,  becoming  ash  color  at  the 
base.  The  bill  and  feet  are  red;  the  nail  white.  The 
base  of  the  bill  is  usually  covered  with  wart-like  ex- 
crescences, or  is  wrinkled  and  roughened.  There  is 
great  difference  in  the  bills,  no  two  being  just  alike. 
The  young  are  white,  tinged  with  gray,  the  centre  of 
the  feathers  often  being  dark  colored. 

Ross's  goose  is  the  smallest  of  our  geese,  being  about 

61 


32  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  size  of  the  mallard  duck,  and  weighing  from  two 
and  a  half  to  three  pounds.  At  a  distance  it  is  hard  to 
distinguish  it  from  the  snow  goose,  but  the  voice  is 
shriller,  and  the  birds  rise  on  the  wing  more  readily 
than  most  of  the  geese,  springing  into  the  air  and  going 
upward  more  like  mallards  or  black  ducks  than  like 
geese.  The  range  of  this  goose  is  given  in  the  books  as 
Arctic  America  in  summer,  and  the  Pacific  coast  to 
Southern  California  in  winter;  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
not  very  much  is  known  about  it.  It  has  been  taken 
quite  frequently  in  California  in  winter,  but  is  nowhere 
abundant. 

In  Northwestern  Montana  it  is  a  common  fall  mi- 
grant, coming  rather  later  than  the  snow  goose,  and 
being  abundant  on  the  heads  of  Milk  River,  Cutbank 
and  Two  Medicine  Lodge  creeks  through  October  and 
the  first  half  of  November.  A  few  years  ago  Mr.  Jos. 
Kipp  captured  there  and  partially  domesticated  no  less 
than  nine  of  these  birds,  but  unfortunately,  before  the 
winter  was  over,  all  of  them  were  killed  by  dogs.  Dr. 
J.  C.  Merrill  tells  us  that  this  goose  is  not  uncommon  in 
the  vicinity  of  Fort  Missoula,  and  Captain  Bendire  has 
taken  it  in  Eastern  Oregon  in  the  spring.  It  is  not  a 
bird  that  is  likely  to  be  met  with  by  sportsmen  except  in 
the  localities  referred  to,  and  there  it  is  usually  shot  by 
being  approached  under  cover. 

I  have  seen  it  there  in  flocks  of  from  seventy-five  to 
one  hundred,  and  have  known  of  sixteen  birds  falling 
to  the  two  discharges  of  a  double-barreled  gun.  The 
flesh  of  those  that  I  have  eaten  was  delicious. 


•i'l 

0 


siiijiiiiiliiiii 


If 


WHITE-FRONTED  GOOSE. 


Anser  albifrons  (Gmel.). 


In  the  genus  Anser  the  bill  is  much  less  stout  than  in 
Chen,  and  the  nail,  which  terminates  it,  is  thinner  and 
less  strong.  The  present  species  is  generally  grayish- 
brown  in  color,  the  feathers  immediately  about  the  bill 
being  in  adults  white,  bordered  behind  by  dark  brown. 
The  head  and  neck  are  grayish-brown,  darkest  on 
crown  of  head  and  back  of  neck.  The  body  is  grayish, 
many  of  the  feathers  being  tipped  with  white.  The 
primaries  are  black,  the  rump  slate-brown,  the  upper 
and  under  tail  coverts  white,  and  the  tail  grayish-brown 
margined  with  white.  The  under  parts  are  grayish, 
variously,  often  heavily,  blotched  with  blackish-brown ; 

53 


54  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

bill,  legs  and  feet,  pinkish;  the  nail  of  the  bill  white; 
length,  28  inches;  wing,  over  15.  The  young  closely  re- 
sembles the  adult,  but  lacks  the  white  about  the  bill,  this 
part  being  dark  brown ;  it  has  no  black  blotches  on  the 
lower  parts.    The  nail  of  the  bill  is  blackish. 

The  white-fronted  goose  is  found  in  the  northern 
parts  of  both  the  Old  and  the  New  World,  though  the 
two  forms  are  separated  by  many  ornithologists  and 
made  different  races.  The  American  bird  is  slightly 
larger  than  that  of  Europe,  but  the  difference  is  small, 
and  size  is  the  only  distinction.  At  all  events,  for  the 
purposes  of  the  gunner,  they  may  be  considered  a  single 
species.  The  white-fronted  goose  is  generally  distrib- 
uted throughout  this  country  from  the  far  north  to  our 
southern  border,  but  is  rare  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  A 
specimen  was  taken  recently  in  Currituck  Sound.  N. 
C,  but  none  of  the  local  gunners,  knew  what  it  was. 
The  species  occurs  in  Cuba  as  well  as  in  Greenland. 

In  all  the  Mississippi  Valley  region  it  is  abundant 
during  the  migrations,  where  it  is  known  as  laughing 
goose,  speckled  belly,  harlequin  brant,  pied  brant, 
prairie  brant,  and  often  simply  as  brant.  It  is  abundant 
also  in  California,  and  occurs  in  large  numbers  as  far 
south  as  Southern  California.  In  summer  the  white- 
fronted  goose  is  found  in  Alaska,  where  some  breed, 
and  in  great  numbers  on  the  islands  of  the  Arctic 
Ocean.  All  northern  explorers  report  it  as  abundant  on 
the  Mackenzie  and  throughout  the  country  bordering 
the  Barren  Lands.  In  America  it  appears  to  be  gen- 
erally a  bird  of  western  distribution. 


WHITE-FRONTED    GOOSE.  55 

The  white-fronted  goose  feeds  largely  on  grass,  and 
in  former  times  did  much  damage  to  the  young  crops 
of  wheat  on  the  western  coast  during  its  migrations. 
It  is  said  to  feed  also  on  berries,  and  to  be  seldom  seen 
on  the  water  except  at  night  or  when  molting.  The 
southward  migration  is  undertaken  late  in  September, 
and  the  flocks  of  white-fronted  geese  usually  make  their 
appearance  on  the  western  prairies  early  in  October, 
when  they  are  often  associated  with  snow  geese,  in 
company  with  which  they  feed  and  journey  to  and  from 
their  feeding  grounds. 

The  flesh  of  the  w^hite-fronted  goose  is  highly  es- 
teemed, and  is  spoken  of  as  being  more  delicate  than 
that  of  any  other  goose,  except  possibly  the  young  of 
the  salt  water  brant. 

The  nest  of  the  white-fronted  goose  is  usually  built 
on  the  low  ground,  near  fresh  water  ponds  or  marshes, 
and  the  six  or  eight  yellowish-white  eggs  are  commonly 
covered  with  down  when  the  mother  leaves  them. 


^^' 


CANADA   GOOSK 
Branta  canadensis  (Linn.). 


Of  all  the  so-called  gray  geese,  the  most  common  and 
t)est  known  is  the  Canada  goose.  Of  this  there  are  four 
different  forms — the  Canada  goose,  Branta  canaden- 
sis; Hutchins's  goose,  Branta  canadensis  hiitchinsii; 
white-cheeked  goose,  Branta  canadensis  occidentalis; 
and  cackling  goose,  Branta  canadensis  minima.  Of 
these  the  common  wild  goose  and  Hutchins's  goose  are 
distributed  over  the  whole  United  States,  the  latter 
being  chiefly  western  in  its  distribution,  while  the 
white-cheeked  or  western  goose  and  the  cackling  goose 
are  exclusively  west^n,  although  the  last  named  oc- 
«casionally  occurs  in  the  Mississippi  Valley. 

56 


CANADA    GOOSE. 


S7 


HUTCHINS  S  GOOSE. 


WHITE-CHEEKED  GOOSE. 


58  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

The  Canada  goose  has  a  triangular  white  patch  on 
each  cheek,  the  two  meeting  under  the  throat,  though 
rarely  they  are  separated  by  a  black  line.  The  head, 
neck,  wing  quills,  rump  and  tail  are  black;  the  lower 
belly,  upper  and  under  tail  coverts  white;  the  upper 
parts  are  dark  grayish-brown,  the  feathers  with  paler 
tips,  and  the  lower  parts  are  gray,  fading  gradually 
into  the  white  of  the  belly.  The  tail  feathers  number 
from  eighteen  to  twenty.  The  bird's  length  is  from  36 
to  40  inches,  wing  18.  The  young  are  similar  to  the 
adult,  but  the  white  cheek  patches  are  sometimes 
marked  with  black,  and  the  black  of  the  neck  fades 
gradually  into  the  grayish  of  the  breast. 


Branta  canadensis  hutchinsii  (Rich.). 

Hutchins*s  goose  exactly  resembles  the  Canada  goose 
in  color,  but  is  smaller,  and  has  fourteen  or  sixteen  tail 
feathers.  The  length  of  Hutchins's  goose  is  about  30 
inches,  wing  16  inches  or  over. 


Branta  canadensis  occidentalis  (Baird). 

The  western  goose  closely  resembles  the  Canada 
goose,  although  it  is  slightly  smaller.  At  the  base  of 
the  black  neck  there  is  a  distinct  white  collar  running 
around  the  neck,  and  separating  the  black  from  the 
gray  and  brown  of  the  body.    'This  white  collar,"  Mr, 


CANADA  GOOSE. 


59 


.^1^ 


CACKLING  GOOSE. 

Ridgway  writes  me,  ''is  a  seasonal  character,  and  may 
occur  in  all  the  sub-species.  It  fades  out  in  summer  and 
reappears  with  the  fresh  molt  in  autumn.  Of  this  fact 
I  had  proof  in  a  domesticated  Hutchins's  goose  which 
my  father  had  for  some  eight  or  ten  years."  The  back 
and  wings  are  slightly  paler  than  in  the  Canada  goose, 
while  the  feathers  of  the  breast  are  perhaps  a  little 
darker.  The  tail  feathers  are  i8  to  20,  as  in  the  Can- 
ada goose;  the  bird's  length  is  from  33  to  36  inches, 
wing  18  inches  or  less.  This  sub-species  is  also  called 
the  white-cheeked  goose. 


Branta  canadensis  minima  Ridgw. 


The  cackling  goose  bears  the  same  relation  to  the 
western  goose  that  Hutchins's  does  to  the  Canada 
goose,  except  that  the  difference  in  size  is  much  greater. 


6o  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

The  tail  feathers  are  14  to  16;  the  length  of  the  bird  is 
about  24  inches;  wing-  about  14  inches.  The  coloring 
is  almost  exactly  that  of  the  western  goose. 

Of  these  four  forms,  the  Canada  goose  is  the  only- 
one  of  general  distribution  throughout  North  America. 
It  is  found  from  the  Arctic  Ocean  to  the  Gulf  of  Mex- 
ico, and  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific;  and  during 
the  migrations  is  abundant  in  New  England,  as  well  as 
over  the  more  sparsely  settled  parts  of  the  country.  On 
the  Pacific  coast  it  is  less  common  tl.an  the  western: 
goose,  but  inland  it  is  found  in  numbers. 

The  common  wild  goose  is  an  early  migrant,  and 
often  passes  North  while  the  waters  are  still  sealed  in 
their  icy  fetters.  Soon  after  its  arrival  in  the  North, 
however,  the  water  becomes  open,  and  the  birds  mate 
and  separate  to  select  their  summer  homes.  The  six  or 
eight  eggs  are  laid  in  nests,  sometimes  in  the  marshes, 
sometimes  on  higher  land,  not  far  from  water,  and 
again  on  the  broken-off  stubs  of  trees,  or  even  in  a  nest 
among  the  branches,  high  above  the  ground.  The  eggs 
are  ivory  white,  and  are  carefully  brooded  by  the 
mother  bird.  Early  in  June  the  young  are  hatched  and 
taken  to  the  water.  Usually  they  are  accompanied  by 
both  parents,  and  at  this  time,  if  danger  approaches, 
they  follow  th^  mother  in  a  long  line,  imitating  her 
movements,  sinking  lower  and  lower  in  the  water  as 
she  sinks  in  her  attempt  to  hide,  and  finally  diving  and 
scattering  under  the  water  when  she  dives.  Soon  after 
the  young  birds  appear  the  old  ones  begin  to  molt,  and 


CANADA  GOOSE.  6l 

this  is  a  period  of  danger  for  them,  many  being  killed  at 
this  time  by  the  Eskimo  and  the  Indians. 

All  along  the  Missouri  River  and  its  tributaries,  and 
by  lakes  scattered  over  the  great  plains,  the  Canada 
goose  formerly  bred  in  considerable  numbers,  and 
twenty  years  ago  broods  of  these  birds  were  commonly 
seen  during  the  summer  along  these  rivers  and  upon 
the  prairies  near  these  little  lakes.  The  settlement  of 
the  western  country,  however,  has  made  such  breeding 
places  no  longer  available,  and  the  geese  are  therefore 
obliged  to  journey  further  to  the  North  before  rearing 
their  young. 

The  wild  goose  is  readily  domesticated,  and  this  fact 
is  taken  advantage  of  by  gunners,  who  capture  crippled 
birds,  keep  them  until  cured,  and  subsequently  use  them 
as  decoys  to  draw  the  passing  flocks  within  gun-shot 
of  their  places  of  concealment.  Not  infrequently  the 
geese  breed  in  confinement,  though  it  is  probable  this 
does  not  take  place  until  the  females  are  three  years  old. 
Sometimes  such  domesticated  geese,  when  tethered  out 
as  decoys,  escape  and  swim  off  to  join  flocks  of  wild 
geese,  but  as  the  tame  ones  commonly  cannot  fly,  they 
are  left  behind  by  the  flocks  when  these  move  away, 
and  frequently  turn  about  and  make  their  way  back  to 
the  place  where  their  fellow  captives  are  confined.  A 
case  of  this  sort  came  under  my  notice  in  Currituck 
Sound  in  the  winter  of  1900,  when  an  old  gander  be- 
longing to  the  Narrows  Island  Club,  that  had  slipped 
his  loops  and  gotten  away,  made  his  way  back,  after 
three  weeks  of  freedom,  nearly  to  the  goose  pen  where 


62  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  rest  of  the  stand  were  kept.  The  superintendent  of 
the  chib  had  heard  the  goose  calhng  for  several  days 
and  recognized  his  voice,  and  after  considerable  search 
found  him  in  one  of  the  httle  leads  in  the  island. 

The  flight  of  the  wild  goose  is  firm,  swift  and  steady. 
The  birds  commonly  fly  in  a  V  or  triangle,  though 
sometimes  they  spread  out  into  a  great  crescent  whose 
convexity  is  directed  forward. 

The  alertness  and  wariness  of  this  bird  have  become 
proverbial,  and  when  at  rest,  either  on  the  land  or 
water,  it  is  particularly  watchful  and  difficult  of  ap- 
proach. Geese  are  exceedingly  gregarious,  and  where 
a  flock  is  resting  on  the  water  all  birds  passing  near 
them  are  likely  to  lower  their  flight,  and  after  making- 
one  or  two  circles  in  the  air,  to  join  the  resting  birds. 
For  this  reason,  when  flying  alone  or  in  companies  of 
two  or  three,  the  goose  may  often  be  called  up  to 
wooden  decoys  by  an  imitation  of  its  cry.  Where  geese 
are  abundant  it  is  exceedingly  common  for  the  gunners 
to  call  such  single  birds  to  within  gunshot. 

In  windy  weather  the  geese,  when  their  flight  obliges 
them  to  face  the  gale,  fly  low,  and  often  barely  top  the 
reeds  of  the  marshes  among  which  they  are  wintering. 
In  foggy  weather,  or  when  snow  is  falling,  they  also 
fly  low,  keeping  close  to  the  water,  apparently  looking 
for  a  place  in  which  to  alight.  At  such  times  they  come 
to  decoys  with  especial  readiness.  Sometimes  in  foggy 
weather,  when  flying  over  the  land,  they  seem  to  be- 
come confused  and  fly  about  in  circles,  as  if  they  had 
quite  lost  their  way. 


1-3     c 

p  -g 

M  1 
u  < 

25 


CANADA   GOOSE.  63 

Hutchins's  goose,  though  so  Hke  the  Canada  goose  in 
coloring,  differs  from  it  in  habits.  Its  breeding  place 
is  further  to  the  North,  and  is  on  the  coast  near  the  salt 
water.  There  their  nests  are  usually  constructed  in 
marshes  near  the  sea,  but  Audubon  quotes  Captain 
Ross  as  stating  that  they  sometimes  breed  on  ledges  of 
the  cliffs.  In  winter  this  species  is  found  in  California 
and  in  Texas ;  and  on  the  Pacific  coast  great  numbers 
are  killed  from  blinds,  and  also  from  behind  domestic 
animals,  trained  to  approach  them  gradually,  as  if  feed- 
ing. Hutchins's  goose  is  common  in  Alaska,  and  is  re- 
ported there  by  all  the  explorers.  Mr.  Macfarlane 
found  them  also  breeding  on  the  shores  and  islands  of 
the  Arctic  Sea. 

Whether  Hutchins's  goose  is  found  at  all  on  the 
North  Atlantic  coast  appears  to  be  an  unsettled  ques- 
tion. The  books  and  the  gunners  alike  state  that  it 
used  to  be  found  there,  but  if  it  occurs  at  present  it  is 
very  unusual. 

•  Like  the  Canada  goose,  Hutchins's  goose  some- 
times has  its  nest  in  trees.  A  case  of  this  kind  is  cited 
by  Dr.  Brewer,  who  states  that  in  one  instance  four 
eggs  of  this  species  were  found  in  the  deserted  nest  of 
a  crow  or  hawk,  built  on  the  fork  of  a  pine  tree  and  at 
a  height  of  nine  feet.  The  parent  bird  was  shot  on  the 
nest. 

Besides  the  ordinary  book  names  applied  to  this 
species,  Mr.  Gurdon  Trumbull,  in  his  admirable 
*'Names  and  Portraits  of  Birds,"  quotes  Eskimo  goose, 
mud  goose,  goose  brant,  marsh  goose  and  prairie  goose. 


64  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

as  well  as  the  general  term,  brant,  which  is  commonly 
applied  to  all  the  smaller  geese.  Mr.  Elliot  says  that 
among  the  Aleutians  this  bird  is  called  the  tundrina 
goose. 

The  habits  of  the  cackling  goose  do  not  appear  to 
differ  at  all  from  those  of  the  Canada  goose,  but  its 
range  is  a  very  narrow  one,  being  restricted  during  the 
summer  to  the  Bering  seacoast  of  Alaska,  its  principal 
breeding  place  being  the  shores  of  Norton  Sound.  It 
does  not  occur  during  the  breeding  season  anywhere 
south  of  the  Alaska  Peninsula,  the  breeding  birds  from 
Cook's  Inlet  southward  being  the  white-cheeked  goose. 
During  migration  it  extends  along  the  Pacific  coast  as 
far  as  California,  but  the  birds  seen  in  summer  along 
the  inlets  of  the  British  Columbia  and  Alaska  coast  are 
not  this  species,  but  the  white-cheeked  goose.  It 
reaches  California  in  its  southward  migration  about  the 
middle  of  October,  and  departs  again  for  the  North  in 
April. 


^«'- 


^ 


V\N^ 


'¥' 


""i>^wiiv5lK)^^ 


BARNACLE  GOOSE 


Branta  leucopsis  (Bechst.). 


Another  species  of  this  group  is  the  barnacle  goose 
{Branta  leucopsis),  which  is  entitled  to  mention  here 
only  to  complete  the  list  of  our  wildfowl.  It  is  a  strag- 
gler from  Europe,  where  it  is  very  common.  No  doubt 
it  regularly  occurs  in  Greenland.  A  specimen  has  been 
taken  near  Rupert  House,  at  the  southern  end  of  Hud- 
son's Bay,  and  others  in  Nova  Scotia,  on  Long  Islanc'j 
and  in  Currituck  Sound,  in  North  Carolina.  It  is  not  a 
bird  likely  to  be  met  with  by  the  sportsmen,  and  yet,  if 
met  with  it  should  at  once  be  reported,  since  every  in- 
stance of  its  capture  is  of  interest.  It  is  a  small  bird, 
only  a  little  larger  than  a  brant,  and  may  be  known  by 

65 


66 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


its  having  almost  the  whole  head  white.  The  lores — 
that  is  to  say,  the  space  between  the  eye  and  the  bill — 
the  back  of  head,  neck  and  breast,  are  black ;  the  wings 
and  back  are  gray,  the  feathers  being  tipped  by  a  black 
bar  and  margined  with  white.  The  under  parts  are 
pale  grayish ;  the  bill,  feet  and  legs  black.  The  young 
have  the  w^hite  cheek  patches  dotted  with  black,  and 
the  feathers  of  the  back  tipped  with  reddish-brown. 

It  seems  noteworthy  that  the  few  specimens  of  this 
bird  taken  in  America  differ  from  specimens  from  Eu- 
rope, in  being  somewhat  paler. 

The  barnacle  goose  breeds  in  great  numbers  in  Si- 
beria and  Spitzbergen,  and  it  is  found  in  winter  in  great 
numbers  on  the  west  coast  of  Great  Britain  and  the 
north  coast  of  Ireland,  In  some  places  in  England  the 
barnacle  goose  has  been  to  some  extent  domesticated, 
and  has  bred  in  captivity. 


"V:- vi¥v-■'H'- 


BRANT. 


Branta  bernicla  (Linn.). 


Two  species  of  brant,  known  as  the  brant  or  brant 
goose  (Branta  bernicla),  and  the  black  brant  (Branta 
nigricans) ,  occupy  respectively  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
coasts  of  America.  Both  are  salt  water  birds,  and,  as  a 
rule,  do  not  venture  inland.  They  are  found  almost 
exclusively  on  tide  waters,  although  stragglers  have  oc- 
casionally been  taken  in  the  Mississippi  Valley.  The 
common  brant  of  the  Atlantic  coast  is  common  to  the 
Old  and  the  New  World.  Both  these  species  are 
small  geese,  but  little  larger  than  Ross's  goose,  which, 
as  already  stated,  is  about  the  size  of  a  mallard  duck. 


68  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

The  common  brant  has  the  head,  neck,  breast  and  fore 
back  black,  with  narrow  touches  of  white  on  either  side 
of  the  neck,  just  below  the  head.  The  upper  parts  are 
brownish-gray,  much  as  in  the  Canada  goose,  but  each 
feather  is  narrowly  margined  with  grayish.  The  under 
parts  are  grayish-white,  fading  into  pure  white  on  the 
belly,  the  upper  and  under  tail  coverts  being  also  white. 
The  middle  of  the  rump  and  the  quill  feathers  of  the 
wing  are  blackish.  The  tail  is  black,  as  are  the  bill, 
legs  and  feet.  The  young  is  not  noticeably  different, 
except  that  the  white  touches  on  the  neck  are  likely  to 
be  absent,  and  white  bars  cross  the  wing,  formed  by 
the  white  tips  of  the  secondary  feathers. 


BLACK  BRANT. 

Branta  nigricans  (Lawr.). 

The  black  brant  is  like  its  eastern  relative,  but  instead 
of  having  the  faint  white  neck  touches,  it  has  a  broad 
white  collar  about  its  neck,  which,  however,  does  not 
quite  meet  behind.  The  general  color  of  this  bird  is 
much  darker  than  that  of  its  eastern  relative.  The 
upper  parts,  wings  and  under  parts  are  dark  brown,  in  ^ 
sharp  contrast  to  the  white  belly  and  upper  and  under 
tail  coverts.  The  length  is  about  25  inches,  and  the 
v/ing  12  1-2  inches. 


The  brant  goes  to  the  far  North  to  breed,  and  its  nest 
was  long  unknown.     Captain  Fielden  found  the  nest 


yo  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

and  eggs  in  latitude  82  degrees  33  minutes  north, 
and  subsequently  many  others  in  the  same  neighbor- 
hood. These  nests  were  on  the  beach,  near  the  water. 
In  Greenland  Dr.  Walker,  who  found  this  species  near 
Godthaab,  as  well  as  in  the  mouth  of  Bellot's  Straits, 
saw  nests  built  in  the  cliffs  which  formed  the  sides  of 
the  strait.  On  the  European  side  of  the  water  the  bird 
has  been  found  breeding  in  great  numbers  at  Spitz- 
bergen,  where  the  ground  was  sometimes  covered  with 
its  nests. 

During  its  migrations  the  brant  appears  on  the  New 
England  coast  in  October  or  November,  and  is  found 
from  there  south  along  the  Atlantic  as  far  as  South 
Carolina.  Its  favorite  wintering  grounds  seem  to  be 
the  coasts  of  Virginia  and  North  and  South  Carolina, 
where  it  remains  in  great  flocks  all  winter,  unless  driven 
further  southward  by  extremely  severe  weather.  It  is 
a  gentle,  unsuspicious  bird,  and  is  readily  decoyed.  On 
the  Massachusetts  coast  it  is  killed  chiefly  in  spring  on 
the  sand  bars,  to  which  it  resorts  for  the  purpose  of 
sanding.  In  its  more  southern  haunts  it  is  commonly 
shot  from  a  battery  or  a  bush  blind. 

Brant  do  not  dive  for  their  food,  but  feed  in  the  same 
way  as  do  geese,  ducks  and  other  shoal  water  wildfowl, 
by  stretching  the  long  neck  down  to"  the  bottom  and 
pulling  up  the  grass  that  grows  there.  It  is  thus  evi- 
dent that  they  can  only  feed  at  certain  stages  of  the 
tide. 

Brant  are  not  uncommon  in  captivity,  and  are  used 
in  New  England  as  decoys  on  the  sand  bars.     The 


BLACK    BRANT.  yi 

flocks  of  migrating  birds  rarely  come  up  to  the  land  or 
to  points  of  marsh  where  there  is  any  opportunity  for 
concealment,  and  thus  few  are  shot  from  the  shore,  ex- 
cept on  the  bars. 

The  range  of  the  black  brant  has  already  been  given. 
Two  or  three  specimens  have  been  taken  on  the  Atlantic 
coast,  but  these  were  merely  stragglers.  On  the  Pacific 
coast  in  winter  it  is  found  on  salt  water  bays  and  estu- 
aries, from  the  straits  of  Fuca  south  to  San  Diego. 
They  make  their  appearance  in  October,  and  leave  again 
in  April. 

Black  brant  appear  to  be  very  little  shot,  notwith- 
standing their  great  numbers.  On  their  northward 
migration  they  usually  proceed  in  small  flocks  of  from 
twenty  to  fifty,  but  at  times  collect  in  such  immense 
numbers  that  great  quantities  of  them  are  killed.  This 
is  especially  true  if  the  birds  have  to  wait  near  the  edge 
of  the  ice  for  the  northern  waters,  which  they  are  seek- 
ing, to  become  open. 

The  black  brant  breeds  near  the  Arctic  Ocean.  Mr. 
Macfarlane  found  their  nests  on  little  islands  in  fresh 
water  ponds  or  in  rivers,  and  saw  many  others  on  the 
shores  or  on  islands  in  Franklin  Bay.  The  number  of 
eggs  in  a  nest  was  usually  five. 

In  its  migration  this  species  follows  the  Alaskan 
coast,  over  the  Bering  Sea,  passing  outside  of  St. 
Michael's  Island,  proceeding  to  Stewart's  Island,  and 
thence  northward  across  the  open  sea  to  Golofin  Sound. 
They  are  found  in  Norton  Sound  by  the  middle  of  May, 
and  breed  in  this  neighborhood  in  great  numbers. 


EMPEROR  GOOSE. 


Philacte  canagica  (Sevast.). 


The  emperor  is  one  of  the  handsomest  of  the  Ameri- 
can geese.  It  is  a  bird  of  very  Hmited  distribution, 
being  confined  to  the  Bering  Sea  and  its  vicinity, 
though  very  rarely  specimens  straggle  southward  in 
winter  along  the  Pacific  coast  of  the  United  States  as 
far  as  California.  The  emperor  goose  may  be  known 
from  all  the  other  North  American  geese  by  the  re- 
markable form  of  its  bill ;  this  is  extremely  short,  with 
a  very  broad  and  thick  nail,  which  occupies  almost  one- 
third  of  the  length.  The  tarsus,  or  naked  portion  of 
the  leg,  between  the  toes  and  the  joint  above,  is  very 
short  in  proportion  to  the  toes. 

72 


EMPEROR    GOOSE.  73 

In  the  adult  emperor  goose  the  head  and  back  of  the 
neck  are  white ;  the  front  and  sides  of  the  throat  and 
neck  are  brownish-black,  slightly  spotted  with  white; 
the  tail  is  slate-color  at  the  base  and  white  at  the  end ; 
the  rest  of  the  plumage  is  bluish,  each  feather  having 
at  its  end  a  narrow  bar  of  white,  bordered  by  a  crescent- 
shaped  black  marking.  The  secondary  feathers  of  the 
wing  are  slaty-black,  margined  with  white;  the  long- 
quills  black.  The  bill  is  bluish  or  purplish;  the  nail 
white,  darker  at  the  edges,  and  the  legs  and  feet  bright 
yellow. 

The  young  are  similar  to  the  adult,  but  have  the  head 
and  neck  lead  color,  sometimes  sprinkled  with  white. 

All  the  explorers  of  Alaska  have  found  this  species 
more  or  less  abundant  in  that  territory.  It  also  occurs 
on  some  of  the  islands  of  the  Bering  Sea,  as  well  as  on 
the  Commander  Islands,  on  the  Siberian  coast.  Mr. 
H.  W.  Elliot  tells  us  that  flocks  sometimes  land  on  the 
Pribilof  Islands  in  an  exhausted  condition,  so  that  the 
natives  run  them  down  on  the  grass,  the  birds  being 
unable  to  fly.  Mr.  Dall  speaks  of  the  exceedingly 
strong  odor  of  garlic  proceeding  from  the  raw  flesh  and 
skin,  and  says  that  this  odor  makes  the  work  of  skin- 
ning the  birds  very  disagreeable.  With  cooking,  the 
smell  disappears. 

The  emperor  geese  breed  on  the  flat,  marshy  islands 
of  the  Alaskan  coast,  the  nest  sometimes  being  placed 
amid  the  driftwood,  even  below  high- water  mark.  Like 
most  other  geese,  the  female  covers  the  eggs  with  down 
from  her  breast. 


74 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


When  the  molting  season  begins  the  Eskimo  kill 
these  geese  in  common  with  others,  capturing  them  by- 
means  of  nets  set  on  the  marshes,  into  which  the  molt- 
ing birds  are  driven.  At  this  time  the  destruction  of 
the  birds  is  very  great. 

This  species  in  Norton  Sound  is  called  white-headed 
goose,  while  the  name  applied  to  it  by  the  Russians  is 
sa-sar-ka,  meaning  guinea  hen,  evidently  from  the  col- 
oring of  the  plumage. 


TREE  DUCKS. 

Intermediate  between  the  true  geese  and  the  ducks 
are  the  so-called  tree  ducks,  belonging  to  the  genus 
Dendrocygna.  Of  these,  two  species  are  found  along 
our  southern  border,  and  occasionally  afford  some  sport 
to  gunners.  They  are  rather  duck-like  in  form,  but 
have  very  large  heads  and  feet,  the  tarsus  being  reticu- 
late instead  of  scutellate,  like  the  ducks.  In  other 
words,  the  skin  of  the  tarsus  is  covered  by  small  scales, 
looking  like  a  network,  instead  of  by  broad,  deep  scales 
which  overlap  in  front.  This,  it  will  be  remembered, 
is  a  character  of  the  geese  (Anserincu).  Moreover, 
the  tarsus  in  the  tree  ducks  is  equal  to  or  longer  than 
the  middle  toe,  instead  of  being  shorter  than  it.  The 
lower  part  of  the  thigh  is  naked,  and  the  hind  toe  is 
extremely  long. 

This  group  appears  to  have  relationship  with  the  Old 
World  sheldrakes,  and  with  the  goose-like  genus 
Chenalopex,  rather  than  with  either  the  ducks  or  the 
geese.  They  are  birds  of  tropical  distribution,  and  in 
the  United  States  are  found  only  along  the  southern 
border.  One  species  is  common  in  the  West  India  Isl- 
ands. None  of  them,  however,  is  sufficiently  abun- 
dant to  be  considered  as  furnishing  gunning,  but  two  of 
the  three  species  belong  in  the  list  of  our  water  fowl. 


BLACK-BELLIED  TREE  DUCK. 


Dendrocygna  autumnalis  (Linn.). 


The  neck,  back  and  breast  are  cinnamon-brown,  the 
forehead  somewhat  paler.  Sides  of  head,  throat  and 
upper  neck  yellowish-gray.  At  the  back  of  the  head  a 
black  strip  begins,  which  runs  down  the  back  of  the 
neck.  The  middle  of  the  back,  rump,  upper  tail  coverts, 
belly,  flanks  and  under  wing  coverts  are  black ;  the  ^ing 
coverts  are  yellowish,  fading  into  ashy  and  grayish- 
white  on  the  greater  coverts.  When  it  is  closed  the 
wing  thus  shows  a  white  strip  for  nearly  its  whole 
length.    The  tail  is  blackish-brown,  and  the  under  parts 

76 


BLACK-BELLIED    TREE    DUCK.  y^ 

yellowish-brown.  The  under  tail  coverts  are  white; 
the  bill  is  red,  changing  to  orange  at  the  base ;  its  nail 
is  bluish;  legs  and  feet  whitish.  The  young  bird  re- 
sembles the  adult,  but  its  colors  are  duller  throughout, 
and  it  lacks  the  black  flanks  and  belly ;  they  are  grayish- 
white,  barred  with  dusky;  length,  19  inches;  wing  9  1-2 
inches. 

In  certain  parts  of  Texas  the  black-bellied  tree  duck 
is  not  a  scarce  bird.  It  is  found  there  in  summer  and 
autumn,  and  at  this  time  of  the  year  visits  the  grain 
fields,  where  some  shooting  at  them  may  sometimes  be 
had.  Its  name  is  well  applied,  for  it  perches  in  the 
trees  without  difficulty,  and  walks  about  on  the 
branches  as  if  much  at  home.  In  fact,  it  is  said  to  pass 
the  hours  of  daylight  largely  in  the  branches  of  trees, 
and  to  do  its  feeding  and  traveling  chiefly  at  night. 
This  duck  nests  in  the  hollow  trees,  and  there  deposits 
twelve  to  fifteen  eggs,  without  forming  any  nest. 
When  hatched  the  young  are  said  to  be  carried  to  the 
water  in  the  mother's  bill. 

It  is  easily  domesticated,  and  when  once  tamed  asso- 
ciates with  the  fowls  of  the  farm  on  perfectly  good 
terms.  When  tamed  it  is  said  to  be  very  watchful,  and 
to  utter  a  shrill  call  at  the  approach  of  any  individual 
or  at  any  unusual  sound. 

In  Texas,  where  the  bird  is  most  common,  it  is 
known  as  the  tree  duck,  corn  field  or  long-legged  duck, 
while  in  Louisiana  the  common  appellation  for  it  is 
fiddler  duck,  from  the  clear  call-note  that  it  utters  at 
night  when  in  flight.     It  frequents  the  old  corn  fields 


78  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

which  have  been  overflowed,  and  from  such  places  it 
may  be  started  in  pairs,  often  giving  good  shooting. 
Its  flesh  is  highly  esteemed.  Some  of  the  local  names 
used  in  South  America  and  in  Mexico  are  applied  to  it 
by  reason  of  its  call-note. 

Mr.  Xantus  took  a  single  specimen  of  this  duck  at 
Fort  Tejon,  in  Southern  California,  but  this  is  the  only 
specimen  known  from  that  State.  In  Mexico  and  Cen- 
tral America  they  are  common.  Dr.  Merrill  states  that 
these  birds  reach  Fort  Brown,  Texas,  from  the  South 
in  April.  Most  of  them  depart  again  in  September  or 
C^ctober,  but  some  stay  until  November. 


FULVOUS-BELLIED  TREE  DUCK. 


Dendrocygna  fulva  (  Gmel.  ) . 


The  brown  tree  duck  is  a  more  northerly  species  than 
the  preceding,  and  is  found  in  Mexico  and  northward 
through  parts  of  CaUfornia  and  Nevada,  as  well  as  in 
Texas  and  Louisiana.  The  head,  neck  and  lower  parts 
are  deep  reddish-yellow,  darkest  on  top  of  head,  and 
changing  to  reddish  on  the  flanks,  the  longer  feathers 
being  streaked  with  pale  yellow ;  middle  of  neck  whitish 
obscurely  streaked  with  black.  A  distinct  black  stripe 
runs  from  the  head  down  the  hind  part  of  the  neck. 
The  upper  parts  are  brownish-black,  the  feathers  of  the 
wing  being  tipped  with  chestnut.    The  upper  tail  cov- 

7*^ 


So  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

erts  are  white ;  the  belly  and  lower  tail  coverts  yellow- 
ish-white ;  the  bill  is  blackish,  and  the  feet  and  legs  are 
slate-blue;  the  length  is  about  20  inches;  wing,  91-2 
inches.  The  colors  of  the  young  are  somewhat  duller, 
and  the  wing  coverts  lack  the  chestnut. 

The  fulvous  tree  duck,  known  as  the  yellow-bellied 
fiddler  in  Louisiana,  and  the  long-legged  duck  in  Texas, 
is  quite  common  there  at  certain  seasons.  Its  habits  do 
not  vary  greatly  from  those  of  the  black-bellied  tree 
duck.  Like  that  species,  it  spends  much  of  its  time  in 
fresh  water  lakes  and  sloughs,  feeding  on  the  grasses 
that  grow  there,  and  it  also  visits  the  corn  fields  at  night 
in  search  of  grain. 

The  flesh  of  both  these  species  is  said  to  be  very  de- 
licious, and  is  eagerly  sought  after.*  The  birds  are  shot 
only  by  being  stumbled  on  or  by  lying  in  wait  for  them 
as  they  come  into  or  leave  the  corn  fields. 

This  duck  is  exceedingly  unsuspicious  and  readily 
permits  approach,  so  that  many  of  them  are  killed. 
When  crippled,  however,  their  strong  legs  enable  them 
to  run  very  fast,  and,  like  all  ducks,  they  are  expert 
hiders,  getting  into  the  grass  and  lying  there  without 
moving.  The  bird  is  also  a  good  diver,  and  if  it  reaches 
the  water  is  not  likely  to  be  captured.  It  Is  said  never 
to  be  found  on  the  salt  water,  but  confines  itself  entirely 
to  inland  pools,  rivers  and  swamps. 

*On  this  point  compare  Robert  Erskine  Ross  in  "California 
Duck  Notes,"    Forest  and  Stream,  July  26,  1902. 


THE  TRUE  DUCKS. 

The  ducks  may  always  be  distinguished  from  their 
relatives,  the  geese,  by  characters  already  indicated. 
The  tarsus,  that  is  to  say,  the  naked  portion  of  the  leg, 
between  the  joint  where  the  feathers  end  and  that 
where  the  toes  begin,  is  covered  in  front  by  broad, 
overlapping  scales,  instead  of  by  a  naked  skin,  orna- 
mented with  small  hexagonal  scales.  The  ducks  are 
usually  smaller  than  the  geese.  They  are  also,  as  a 
rule,  more  highly  colored,  though  this  brilliancy  pre- 
vails more  in  the  males  of  the  fresh-water  ducks  than 
in  the  sea  ducks.  Nevertheless,  this  is  not  the  invari- 
able rule,  for  the  males  of  all  the  mergansers,  and  such 
species  of  sea  ducks  as  the  eiders,  the  harlequin,  the 
butter-ball  and  long-tailed  duck  are  extremely  showy 
and  beautiful  birds.  As  a  rule  the  ducks  have  shorter 
necks  and  legs  than  the  geese. 

It  has  long  been  known  to  naturalists  and  to  a  few 
gunners  that  in  the  mallard  and  some  other  ducks  the 
males  assume  during  the  summer  a  plumage  very  dif- 
ferent from  that  which  they  commonly  wear  during  the 
autumn,  winter  and  spring,  and  not  unlike  that  of  the 
female.  This  is  not  generally  known,  and  even  by 
ornithologists  has  not  always  been  understood.  Re- 
cently, however,  in  the  Proceedings  of  the  Academy  of 
Natural  Sciences  of  Philadelphia,  for  the  last  quarter  of 

81 


82  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

1899,  Mr.  Witmer  Stone,  in  a  paper  entitled  'The 
Summer  Molting  Plumage  of  Certain  Ducks,"  has  dis- 
cussed the  subject  in  a  very  suggestive  way. 

Mr.  Stone  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  in  only  one 
of  our  ducks — the  old  squaw — does  the  adult  male  pos- 
sess a  distinct  winter  plumage  which  is  different  from 
the  breeding  dress,  that  the  old  males  of  all  our  other 
ducks  remain  in  the  same  plumage  from  the  time  they 
arrive  in  autumn  till  their  departure  northward  in 
spring,  and  intimates  that,  judging  by  analogy,  we 
should  suppose  that  since  these  ducks  show  no  tendency 
toward  a  change  of  plumage  when  they  leave  us  in  the 
spring,  they  must  retain  the  same  feathers  that  covered 
them  during  the  winter  until  the  end  of  the  breeding 
season,  when  a  complete  molt  should  occur  and  a  new 
dress  be  assumed  exactly  like  the  one  just  shed. 

It  is  known,  however,  that  this  is  not  the  fact,  and,  as 
stated,  the  ''plumage  after  the  breeding  season"  has 
been  described  in  some  species.  The  first  record  of 
this  peculiar  summer  plumage  in  the  male  ducks  is 
found  in  the  supplement  to  Montagu's  "Ornithological 
Dictionary,"  181 3,  under  the  head  of  "The  Pintail 
{Dafila  acuta)."  The  observations  made  on  some  do- 
mesticated birds  are  given  as  follows :  "In  the  month  of 
June  or  beginning  of  July  these  birds  commenced  their 
change  of  plumage,  and  by  degrees  after  making  a  sin- 
gular mottled  appearance,  especially  on  the  part  of  the 
body  which  was  white  before,  became  by  the  first  V\^eek 
in  August  entirely  of  a  brown  color.  The  beautiful 
bronze  on  the  head,  the  white  streak  on  each  side  of  the 


THE    TRUE   DUCKS.  83 

neck,  and  all  the  white  beneath,  as  well  as  the  elegant 
scapulars,  had  entirely  vanished,  and  to  all  appearance 
a  sexual  metamorphosis  had  taken  place.  But  this 
change  was  of  short  duration,  for  about  the  latter  end 
of  September  one  of  the  males  began  to  assume  the 
masculine  attire  *  *  *  and  by  the  middle  of  Oc- 
tober this  bird  was  again  in  full  plumage." 

Twenty-five  years  later  the  naturalist  Waterton  de- 
scribed a  similar  molt  in  the  male  mallard,  and  as  time 
went  on,  other  species  were  found  to  undergo  like 
changes.  In  Mr.  Ridgway's  ''Manual  of  North  Ameri- 
can Birds,"  a  number  of  species  are  given  as  having  a 
peculiar  summer  plumage  resembling  the  female.  Such 
are  the  mallard,  blue-wing  and  cinnamon  teal,  the  gad- 
wall,  widgeon,  pintail  and  scaup.  On  the  whole,  how- 
ever, very  little  is  said  in  the  books  about  this  change. 

Mr.  Stone's  examination  of  four  species  of  eider 
ducks  brought  back  from  the  Arctic  by  Mr.  E.  A.  Mc- 
Ilhenny,  and  taken  near  Point  Barrow,  in  the  late  sum- 
mer or  early  autumn,  leads  Mr.  Stone  to  believe  that  in 
all  ducks  where  the  plumages  of  the  male  and  female 
are  markedly  different  we  may  expect  to  find  this  double 
molt  and  a  dull  summer  plumage  in  the  male.  He 
points  out  that  this  summer  plumage  is  in  no  sense  a 
nuptial  dress,  and  that  while  it  may  begin  to  appear 
before  the  young  birds  are  hatched,  it  is  not  seen  until, 
after  the  mating  season  is  over,  and  is  distinctly  a  post- 
nuptial dress.  The  change  is  chiefly  restricted  to  the 
head,  neck,  breast  and  scapulars;  in  other  words,  to 
those  parts  which  are  most  conspicuously  colored. 


84  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

A  very  important  point  in  connection  with  this  sum- 
mer plumage  is  that  the  annual  molt  of  the  flight  feath- 
ers does  not  begin  until  it  has  been  fully  acquired,  and 
that  as  soon  as  the  new  flight  feathers  have  become 
strong  enough  to  be  used,  the  dull  plumage,  as  well  as 
the  remainder  of  the  old  plumage,  is  lost,  the  molt  of 
the  body  feathers  proceeding  in  the  usual  way.  In  other 
words,  this  dull  plumage  lasts  only  during  the  period 
while  the  birds  are  unable  to  fly,  for,  as  is  well  under- 
stood, ducks  molt  the  quill  feathers  of  their  wings  all  at 
once,  and  for  a  time  lose  the  power  of  flight.  Now  at 
such  a  time  a  dull  plumage  would  naturally  be  useful  in 
rendering  the  bird  inconspicuous,  and  thereby  protect- 
ing it,  and  Mr.  Stone  believes  this  to  be  the  explanation 
of  this  curious  summer  molt.  He  adds  that  the  feath- 
ers of  this  plumage  are  very  poor  and  loosely  con- 
structed, like  the  ''first"  plumage  of  young  birds,  which 
is  only  a  temporary  summer  dress. 

Mr.  Stone  quotes  European  authors  who  have  de- 
scribed eider  ducks  of  different  species  in  this  dress,  but 
have  called  them  young  males,  evidently  not  appreciat- 
ing the  meaning  of  the  change.  He  then  goes  on  to 
describe  in  detail  this  summer  plumage  in  four  species 
of  Pacific  eiders  and  in  the  red-breasted  merganser, 
from  which  it  appears  that  up  to  July  the  nuptial  dress 
of  the  male  is  usually  retained,  but  that  by  the  latter 
part  of  August  and  in  early  September  this  "summer 
molting  plumage,"  as  Mr.  Stone  calls  it,  is  fully  as- 
sumed. 


NON-DIVING  DUCKS. 

SUB-FAMILY  AnatiucB. 

As  has  already  been  said,  the  ducks  are  divided  into 
three  sub-families.  Of  these  the  first  is  the  AnatincBy 
or  fresh-water  ducks.  One  unvarying  character  of  this 
group  is  that  it  has  the  hind  toe  simple,  while  in  all 
the  sea  or  diving  ducks  it  is  lobed,  or  provided  with 
a  loose  membrane  or  flap.  The  feet  of  the  fresh- 
water ducks,  as  a  rule,  are  smaller  than  those  of  the 
sea  ducks,  formed  more  for  progression  on  land  than 
for  swimming.  The  fresh-water  ducks  feed  in  shallow 
water,  gathering  their  food  from  the  bottom  by 
stretching  down  the  neck,  or  by  tipping  up  the  body, 
as  do  also  the  geese  and  the  swans.  They  do  not  dive 
for  food,  though  they  often  do  so  to  escape  from  dan- 
ger when  wounded.  As  a  rule  they  feed  on  vegetable 
matter,  from  which  it  results  that  their  flesh  is  very 
palatable.  As  it  is  a  fact,  however,  that  all  ducks  are 
indiscriminate  feeders,  in  cases  where  the  fresh-water 
ducks  have  access  to  animal  food  their  flesh  readily 
acquires  an  unpleasant,  fishy  taste.  There  are  thirteen 
or  fourteen  species  of  fresh-water  ducks  found  in 
North  America,  most  of  which  are  familiar  to  gunners. 
Naturalists  are  by  no  means  agreed  as  to  the  proper  no- 
menclature to  be  applied  to  the  different  species  in  this 

85 


86 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


group,  but  for  the  purposes  of  this  work  it  will  be  suf- 
ficient to  take  that  adopted  by  the  American  Ornitholo- 
gists' Union  in  its  revised  Check  List  of  North  Ameri- 
can Birds.  It  is  to  be  noted,  however,  that  the  order  in 
which  the  species  are  arranged  is  not  that  of  the  Check 
List. 


4c^'. 


MALLARD. 


Anas  boschas  Linn. 


In  autumn,  winter  and  spring  the  colors  of  the  mal- 
lard are  those  of  the  common  domestic  duck,  which  is 
its  descendant.  The  head  and  neck  are  brilliant  metal- 
lic green,  sometimes  showing  golden  and  purple  reflec- 
tions, according  to  the  light's  reflection.  About  the 
neck,  below  this  green,  is  a  narrow  ring  of  white,  usu- 
ally broken  at  the  back.  The  back  is  brown,  or  brown- 
ish-gray, finely  waved  with  grayish-white,  as  are  the 
inner  scapular  feathers,  which  darken  to  rich  brown  on 
the  wing.  The  speculum,  or  wing  patch,  is  violet, 
with  metallic  reflections,  crossed  near  the  end  with  a 
black  bar,  and  tipped  with  a  white  one.     The  rump  and 

87 


88  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

Upper  tail-coverts  are  black,  and  the  tail  white,  each 
feather  being  grayish  along  the  shaft.  The  breast  is 
deep  glossy  chestnut,  and  the  other  under  parts  gray, 
waved  with  narrow  black  lines.  The  under  tail-cov- 
erts are  black.  The  bill  is  yellow-green,  with  a  black 
nail,  the  eyes  dark  brown  and  the  feet  orange.  The 
length  is  about  2  feet  and  the  wing  from  11  to  12 
inches.  The  summer  dress  of  the  male  closely  resem- 
bles that  of  the  female,  but  is  darker.  This  plumage 
is  assumed  in  June  and  is  lost  again  in  August,  when 
the  winter  dress  is  resumed. 

The  female  is  colored  much  as  the  female  of  the 
tame  duck;  the  feathers  generally  are  dusky,  with 
broad,  pale  yellow  or  buff  edges.  On  the  upper  parts 
the  dark  color  predominates;  on  the  lower,  the  buff, 
often  almost  to  the  exclusion  of  the  blackish  streaks. 
The  wing  patch  is  colored  as  in  the  male,  as  are  the 
bill,  feet  and  legs.  The  chin  is  almost  white  and  the 
throat  is  buff. 

No  one  of  our  ducks  has  a  wider  range  than  the 
mallard,  which,  as  has  been  said,  is  the  progenitor  of 
the  common  domestic  duck.  It  is  found  over  the  en- 
tire northern  portion  of  the  world;  and,  in  America, 
as  far  south  as  Mexico,  while  in  Europe  it  breeds  in 
Southern  Spain  and  Greece.  It  is  believed  to  be  com- 
mon throughout  Asia,  except  in  tropical  India,  and  it 
is  more  or  less  abundant  in  Northern  Africa.  Al- 
though a  migratory  bird,  the  mallard  may  usually  be 
found  throughout  its  range  in  winter,  provided  there 
is  open  water,  and  so  a  place  where  it  may  feed.     In 


MALLARD.  89 

many  places  in  the  Northern  Rocky  Mountains,  where 
the  thermometer  often  goes  to  30  or  40  degrees  below 
zero,  mallards  may  be  found  throughout  the  winter 
living  in  warm  springs  or  along  swift  streams,  where 
the  current  is  so  rapid  that  the  w^ater  never  freezes. 
Thus  it  is  seen  that  the  winter's  cold  has  little  to  do 
with  the  migration  of  the  mallard — or,  in  fact,  with 
that  of  many  other  ducks — and  that,  if  food  is  plenty, 
the  birds  can  bear  almost  any  degree  of  cold.  It  is  the 
freezing  of  the  waters  and  thus  the  shutting  off  of  the 
food  supply  that  forces  these  inland  birds  to  move 
southward. 

In  the  New  England  States  the  mallard  is  not  a 
common  bird,  but  in  the  Southern  States,  the  interior 
and  California  it  is  extremely  abundant. 

In  the  northern  interior  the  mallard  is  shot  from 
early  October  until  the  waters  close  in  November,  and 
all  through  the  winter  it  is  abundant  in  the  Southern 
States.  Here  it  feeds  in  the  marshes  along  the  salt 
water,  in  the  rice  fields  and  along  the  sloughs  and 
streams  throughout  the  interior,  and  becomes  fat  and 
well  flavored  and  is  eagerly  pursued.  It  comes  readily 
to  decoys  and  if  one  or  more  live  ducks  are  tethered 
with  the  decoys  to  call  down  the  wild  birds,  they  are 
quite  certain  to  respond  and  to  offer  easy  shooting  to 
the  gunner.  Formerly  the  mallard  bred  in  consid- 
erable numbers  within  the  limits  of  the  United  States, 
though  it  has  never  been  a  common  bird  at  any  season 
on  the  Atlantic  coast  north  of  New  York.  Yet  it 
used  to  breed  in  great  numbers  in  Illinois,  Indiana, 


90  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Wisconsin,  Michigan  and  Minnesota,  as  well  as  in  the 
prairies  of  the  further  West  and  about  alkaline  lakes 
and  pools  on  the  high  central  plateau.  Now,  most 
of  the  birds  proceed  further  north  to  breed,  and 
Canada,  the  Hudson's  Bay  country  and  tlie  shores  of 
the  Arctic  Sea  are  all  occupied  by  it  during  the  nesting 
season.  Dr.  Brewer  states  that  ''it  has  been  known  in 
rare  instances  to  nest  in  a  tree,  in  such  cases  occupying 
a  deserted  nest  of  a  hawk,  crow  or  other  large  bird.'' 

The  mallard  is  one  of  our  typical  fresh-water  ducks. 
It  is  rarely  or  never  found  on  salt  water,  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  common  on  the  lagoons  along  the  south- 
ern Atlantic  coast  which  are  brackish.  Here  it  asso- 
ciates with  many  other  fresh-water  ducks  and  is  fre- 
quently seen  flying  in  company  with  black  ducks,  sprig- 
tails,  widgeons  and  other  species. 

The  mallard  rises  from  the  water  by  a  single  spring, 
almost  straight  up  in  the  air,  and  then  flies  upward  at 
a  sharp  angle,  until  it  has  reached  a  height  of  thirty  or 
forty  feet,  when  it  flies  rapidly  away.  Its  speed  on  the 
wing  is  considerable  and  when  coming  before  the 
wind  it  is  necessary  for  the  gunner  to  make  consid- 
erable allowance  to  hit  it.  When  the  mallard  rises  on 
the  water  it  usually  utters  several  loud  quacks  of  alarm, 
and  when  associated  in  companies,  as  it  usually  is,  the 
birds  keep  up  a  more  or  less  continuous  conversation. 
When  flying,  its  attention  is  readily  attracted  by  an 
imitation  of  its  note,  and  this  call,  made  either  with 
the  mouth  or  with  an  instrument  known  as  a  duck  call, 
is  often  used  to  lead  it  to  observe  the  decoys.     If  it 


MALLARD.  9 1 

can  be  made  to  see  these,  it  is  extremely  likely  to  come 
to  them. 

This  species  readily  hybridizes  with  certain  other 
ducks.  A  hybrid  supposed  to  be  mallard  and  muscovy 
duck  is  common.  So  also  is  one  between  the  mallard 
and  the  black  duck,  and  of  these  I  have  killed  a  num- 
ber. They  bear  a  general  resemblance  to  the  black 
duck,  but  the  head  and  neck  are  much  darker  and  show 
glossy  reflections.  Moreover,  the  crissum  or  anal  re- 
gion is  jet  black,  as  are  the  upper  tail-coverts,  and  the 
male  is  likely  to  possess  the  recurved  tail  feathers  which 
characterize  the  mallard  drake. 

Many  years  ago,  in  Carbon  county,  Wyoming,  I 
killed  a  male  hybrid  between  the  mallard  and  pintail. 
In  form  it  resembles  the  male  pintail,  but  its  head  is 
blackish  green,  with  metallic  reflections,  almost  the 
color  of  the  male  shoveller.  Its  breast  is  chestnut  and 
its  back  much  like  that  of  a  mallard.  The  general  effect 
is  that  of  a  male  pintail  with  mallard  coloring. 

Perhaps  no  one  of  our  North  American  ducks  is  so 
well  known  as  the  mallard,  and  yet  it  has  compara- 
tively few  common  names.  It  is  called  greenhead,  wild 
drake,  wild  duck,  English  duck,  French  duck  and  gray 
duck,  or  sometimes  gray  mallard  for  the  female.  In 
Canada  the  name  stock  duck  was  formerly  common, 
referring  evidently  to  this  bird  as  a  progenitor  of  the 
domestic  duck.  The  French  Canadians  call  it  canard 
Frangais  or  French  duck.  Mr.  Trumbull  calls  atten- 
tion to  the  old  but  now  obsolete  duckinmallard,  a  word 
supposed  to  be  a  corruption  of  duck  and  mallard,  duck 


92 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


being  the  female  and  mallard  the  male.  The  word  is 
thus  the  equivalent  of  duck  and  drake,  it  having  been 
the  custom,  seemingly,  to  speak  of  the  species  by  this 
double  name. 


,-U^..,- 


^■A*akV«*v 


N^?' 


BLACK  DUCK  OR  DUSKY  DUCK. 


Anas  obscura  Gmel. 


Under  the  general  name  *'black  duck"  are  included 
two  species  and  one  sub-species  so  closely  alike  that 
only  a  careful  comparison  will  distinguish  them. 

They  are  birds  similar  in  size  and  form  to  the  mal- 
lard, but  very  different  in  color.  The  black  duck  is 
brownish-black  or  dusky,  all  the  feathers  edged  with 
pale  grayish  or  yellowish.  The  head  and  neck  are 
streaked  with  yellowish.  Of  this  there  is  least  on  the 
top  of  the  head  and  the  hind  neck,  which  are  sometimes 
nearly  black;  most  on  the  sides  of  head  and  throat. 

93 


94  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

These  last  are  sometimes  almost  buff,  without  any- 
streaking.  The  speculum,  or  iridescent  wing  patch, 
is  sometimes  metallic-green  and  sometimes  violet, 
edged  with  black.  The  bill  is  yellowish-green  and  the 
nail  dark,  while  the  feet  are  orange-red,  the  webs 
dusky.  Length,  22  inches;  wing,  11.  The  sexes  are 
essentially  alike. 

Since  the  first  edition  of  this  book  was  published, 
Mr.  William  Brewster  has  described  {Aiik  xix,  p.  183, 
April,  1892)  a  new  form  of  black  duck  {A.  obscura 
rubripes).  It  is  slightly  larger  than  the  common  form, 
has  the  dark  feathers  of  crown  edged  with  gray  or 
yellowish,  the  dai:k  markings  on  foreneck  and  sides  of 
head  coarser  and  blacker,  bill  yellow,  tarsi  and  toes 
bright  red.  Its  distribution  is  apparently  northern 
and  western. 


f^^^i&^- 


^i 


'i  jZLM^It.^kl'lJ^'^^^i^l^i'^^*^^ 


FLORIDA  DUSKY  DUCK. 


Anas  fulvigiila  Ridgw. 


The  general  color  above  is  brownish-black,  as  in  the 
black  duck,  but  the  feathers  more  widely  margined 
with  yellowish,  giving  a  generally  paler  cast  to  the 
bird.  The  chin  and  throat  are  always  plain  unstreaked 
buff,  these  being  finely  streaked  in  the  black  duck.  The 
speculum  is  green,  sometimes  tipped  with  white,  which 
may  then  form  a  bar  across  the  wing.  The  bill  is  olive- 
yellow  and  there  is  a  triangular  spot  of  black  at  its 
base,  near  the  angle  of  the  mouth.  The  legs  and  feet 
are  orange-red.  The  length  is  about  20  inches  and 
the  wing  10.  The  female  is  somewhat  paler  than  the 
male. 

95 


g6  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

The  Florida  duck  is  an  altogether  Hghter  colored 
bird  than  the  dusky  duck  and  there  can  be  no  question 
as  to  its  specific  distinctness  nor  of  the  ease  with  which 
it  may  be  distinguished  if  the  differential  characters 
are  borne  in  mind.  These  consist  ( i )  in  the  altogether 
paler  coloration,  the  under  parts  being  bufif,  streaked 
with  dusky,  instead  of  the  reverse;  (2)  the  plain  buff 
cheeks,  chin  and  throat,  these  parts  being  thickly 
streaked  in  the  dusky  duck;  (3)  the  black  spot  at  base 
of  upper  mandible,  next  to  corner  of  mouth;  (4)  the 
green  instead  of  violet  speculum. 


•Vv.     % 


MOTTLED  DUCK. 


Anas  fulvigula  maculosa  (Senn.). 


The  mottled  duck  resembles  the  Florida  duck  in  the 
characters  given  above,  except  that  the  cheeks  are 
streaked  instead  of  plain,  the  speculum  violet  instead  of 
g-reen  and  the  general  coloration  rather  darker — mot- 
tled rather  than  streaked.  It  is  described  by  Mr.  G.  B. 
Sennett  as  follows :  Top  of  head  blackish-brown,  mar- 
gined with  very  pale  buff.  Chin  and  throat  isabella 
color.  Cheeks,  buffy  white,  with  narrow  streaks  of 
dark  brown.  Feathers  of  breast,  wings,  upper  parts 
and  flanks  blackish-brown,  margined  with  pale  buff. 
Under  parts  buffy  white,  each  feather  with  a  broad 

97 


98  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

blackish-brown  mark  near  the  tip,  giving  a  decidedly 
mottled  appearance.  Under  tail-coverts  blackish,  with 
outer  margins  of  inner  webs  reddish-buff;  those  of 
outer  webs  buffy  white.  The  four  middle  tail  feathers 
bkckish-brown,  the  others  brownish.  Under  surface 
of  all  tail  feathers  light  gray.  The  speculum  is  metal- 
lic purple,  its  feathers  tipped  with  white.  Length 
about  19  inches,  wing  10  inches. 

These  three  forms  are  so  much  alike  that  it  is  not 
probable  that  the  average  gunner  will  be  able  to  dis- 
tinguish them  apart.  They  occupy  different  regions, 
and  while  their  ranges  probably  overlap,  it  is  not  likely 
that  the  southern  forms  are  ever  found  much  beyond 
the  regions  which  they  are  known  to  inhabit. 

The  dusky  duck,  better  known  as  black  duck,  is  the 
commonest  of  the  fresh-water  ducks  of  Eastern  Can- 
ada, New  Brunswick,  Nova  Scotia  and  the  New  Eng- 
land coast,  but  when  it  gets  as  far  south  as  the  Chesa- 
peake Bay  and  North  Carolina  it  finds  there  its  relative, 
the  mallard,  in  numbers  as  great  as  its  own  and  as- 
sociates with  it  on  terms  of  equality. 

The  black  duck,  while  feeding  almost  exclusively  in 
fresh  water,  by  no  means  avoids  the  sea  coast.  On 
the  contrary,  in  the  New  England  States  it  spends  most 
of  the  day  resting  on  the  salt  water  and  only  visits 
the  inland  streams,  swamps  and  marshes  to  feed  dur- 
ing the  night.  In  these  localities  it  does  not  disdain 
such  salt-water  food  as  it  may  pick  up,  and  in  the  early 
morning  at  low  tide  I  have  seen  great  flocks  of  these 


MOTTLED    DUCK.  99 

birds  feeding  on  the  sand  beaches  and  mud  flats  off 
Mil  ford,  Conn.,  where  their  chief  food  must  have  been 
the  winkles  that  are  so  abundant  there. 

The  black  duck  is  not  common  in  the  interior,  though 
it  has  been  reported  from  near  York  Factory.  Dr. 
Yarrow  has  reported  it  from  Utah,  but  these  birds 
were  perhaps  mottled  duck  {A.  f.  maculosa).  I,  per- 
sonally, have  not  seen  it  west  of  Nebraska,  and  then 
only  on  a  very  few  occasions.  The  specimens  then 
noted  may  have  been  mottled  ducks.  It  is  occa- 
sionally taken  in  Iowa  and  Minnesota,  but  so  seldom 
that  most  duck  shooters  do  not  know  the  species.  Oc- 
casionally a  man,  whose  experience  extends  over 
fifteen  or  twenty  years  of  gunning  there,  will  say  that 
he  has  seen  a  bird  two  or  three  times.  It  has  been  re- 
ported as  breeding  in  great  numbers  about  forty  miles 
north  of  Winnipeg,  Manitoba. 

In  mild  winters  the  black  duck  remains  throughout 
the  season  in  Massachusetts  and  Connecticut,  but 
sometimes,  if  the  cold  is  bitter  and  long-continued,  the 
ice  covers  its  customary  feeding  grounds,  and  its  food 
becoming  very  scarce,  it  grows  so  thin  that  gunners 
refuse  longer  to  kill  it.  At  such  times  it  sits  off  shore 
in  the  sea,  or,  if  the  ice  extends  very  far  out  from  the 
shore,  upon  the  ice,  and  almost  starves  to  death.  We 
have  once  or  twice  seen  birds  caught  in  muskrat  traps 
which  were  nothing  more  than  skeletons  covered  b}'' 
feathers. 

In  New  England  the  black  duck  is  considered  one  of 
the  most  acute  of  all  our  fowl  and  is  very  difficult  of 


lOO  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

approach.  They  usually  refuse  to  notice  decoys,  and, 
owing  to  their  keen  senses  and  constant  watchfulness, 
are  not  shot  in  great  numbers.  The  gunners  believe 
that  their  sense  of  smell  is  very  keen,  and  will  not  at- 
tempt to  approach  them  down  the  wind,  believing  that 
the  ducks  will  smell  them. 

The  black  duck  rises  from  the  water  in  the  same 
manner  as  the  mallard  and  its  note  is  not  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  mallard's.  In  the  Southern  States, 
where  they  feed  chiefly  on  grasses  and  rice  and  wild 
celery,  they  are  very  delicious,  but  on  the  New  Eng- 
land coast  they  are  sometimes  found  to  be  very  inferior 
table  birds. 

In  the  South  the  black  ducks  often  congregate  in 
flocks  of  several  hundred,  resorting  especially  to  lit- 
tle flag  ponds  in  the  marshes  which  they  especially  af- 
fect. Here  they  appear  to  have  lost  much  of  the  sus- 
piciousness which  they  show  further  north  and  often 
come  readily  to  decoys,  responding  as  easily  as  the  mal- 
lard to  the  quacking  of  duck,  man  or  duck  call. 

More  than  almost  any  of  its  relatives  the  black  duck 
seems  to  be  a  night  feeder,  and  all  night  long  its  cries 
may  be  heard  through  the  marsh ;  yet  it  is,  of  course, 
well  known  that  all  ducks  feed  at  night,  especially  when 
there  is  a  moon,  and  the  very  common  belief  that  the 
black  duck  does  this  more  than  others  may  be  without 
foundation. 

The  black  duck  is  frequently  domesticated  and  does 
well  in  confinement,  and  it  readily  interbreeds  with 
the  mallard,  either  the  wild  or  the  domestic.     Domesti- 


MOTTLED    DUCK.  lOI 

cated  birds  are  frequently  used  as  decoy  ^,  c-nd  wUh 
great  effect. 

While  the  black  duck  breeds  chiefly  to-  the-  tiortn  of 
the  United  States,  nevertheless  many  rear  their  young 
in  Maine,  New  Hampshire,  New  York  and  even  as  far 
south  as  North  Carolina,  though  there  is,  of  course,  a 
possibility  that  the  birds  breeding  there  may  belong  to 
the  next  species.  The  nest  is  usually  built  on  the 
ground,  concealed  in  high  grass  or  rushes,  and  the 
eggs  vary  in  number  from  six  to  eleven  or  twelve.  They 
are  grayish-white,  with  a  very  faint  tinge  of  green. 
Mr.  Geo.  A.  Boardman,  of  Calais,  Me.,  however,  re- 
ports that  he  once  found  a  dusky  duck's  nest  in  a  cavity 
of  a  leaning  birch  tree  about  thirty  feet  high.  The 
young,  from  the  time  they  are  newly  hatched,  are  ex- 
pert in  hiding,  and  at  the  approach  of  danger  make  for 
the  shore  and  conceal  themselves  among  the  grasses. 

The  Florida  dusky  duck,  while  very  similar  to  the 
black  duck,  may  easily  be  distinguished  from  it  if  the 
characters  already  mentioned  are  kept  in  mind.  The 
general  differences  are  much  paler  color  and  absence  of 
streaks  on  the  cheeks,  chin,  throat  and  fore-neck,  be- 
sides a  difference  in  the  markings  on  the  bill.  This 
bird  was  long  considered  to  be  a  pale  southern  race  of 
the  black  duck,  but  of  late  years  has  been  considered 
a  valid  species.  Its  range  is  a  very  restricted  one  and 
is  confmed  apparently  to  Southern  Florida. 

In  habits  it  does  not  differ  greatly  from  the  ordi- 
nary black  duck,  except  so  far  as  its  surroundings  ne- 
cessitate a  difference.     During  the  winter  it  resorts 


I02  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

for,  food  to  the  fresh- water  ponds  during  the  day  and 
at  ^yeiaing^  flj.es  to  the  shores  about  the  islands,  where 
tlie  iii.g.Ut  i^  sclent.  The  birds  mate  in  late  winter  and 
early  spring  and  the  broods  are  hatched  in  April.  The 
nest  is  placed  in  heavy  grass  or  vegetation,  which  is 
often  so  thick  as  to  conceal  the  eggs.  Often  the  nests 
are  placed  at  the  foot  of  a  palmetto  or  other  bush.  It  is 
said  that  many  of  these  nests  are  destroyed  by  the  burn- 
ing of  the  grass,  which  takes  place  each  year  in  certain 
portions  of  Florida  in  order  to  make  way  for  the  fresh 
grass  for  the  cattle. 

The  eggs  of  this  species  are  said  to  be  similar  to  those 
of  the  ordinary  black  duck,  but  are  a  little  paler  and  not 
quite  so  large.  It  is  altogether  probable  that  all  the 
black  ducks  killed  in  Florida  may  belong  to  this  species. 

The  mottled  duck  described  by  Air.  Sennett  as  a  sub- 
species of  the  Florida  duck,  closely  resembles  it.  The 
cheeks, however,  are  somewhat  streaked  with  brown,  as 
in  the  ordinary  black  duck,  though  the  throat  is  un- 
streaked  and  the  general  appearance  of  the  bird  is 
spotted  or  mottled  rather  than  streaked.  The  difference 
in  color  of  the  speculum  in  these  three  forms  of  black 
duck  is  a  real  one,  and  of  importance.  It  denotes  the 
average  effect  of  color  independent  of  changes  due  to 
the  angle  at  which  the  light  strikes  them. 

Very  little  is  known  about  the  habits  of  this  sub- 
species, which  appears  to  be  confined  to  Eastern  Texas 
and  Louisiana,  and  to  extend  its  range  north  as  far  as 
Kansas. 


MiPnimUn. 


GADWALL. 


Anas  strep  era  Linn, 


The  general  colors  of  the  gadwall  duck  are  gray, 
most  of  the  feathers  being  nearly  white,  crossed  by  nar- 
row bars  of  black  or  blackish  brown.  In  the  adult  male 
the  head  and  neck  are  pale  brownish-white,  thickly 
speckled  with  black  or  blackish-brown.  The  top  of  the 
head  and  back  of  neck  are  often  rusty  brown  and  the 
throat  is  yellowish,  sometimes  dotted  with  brown.  The 
breast  and  back  are  buff,  or  nearly  white,  marked  with 
dark  slate  brown  or  even  black  bars.  The  back,  scap- 
ular feathers  and  sides,  white,  with  cross  bars  of  black ; 
the  lower  part  of  the  back  still  darker,  changing  to  ab- 
solute black  on  the  upper  tail-coverts.    The  long  scap- 

103 


I04  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ular  or  shoulder  feathers  are  fringed  with  reddish- 
brown  ;  the  greater  coverts  at  the  bend  of  the  wing 
bright  chestnut.  Speculum  white,  edged  beneath  with 
velvety  black,  and  with  broad  patch  of  same  in  front,  be- 
tween the  white  and  the  chestnut.  Belly  and  under  tail- 
coverts  black ;  tail  gray,  fading  to  white  at  the  edges ; 
the  rest  of  the  under  parts  white.  The  bill  is  bluish-  black 
and  the  legs  and  feet  yellow,  with  dusky  webs.  The 
adult  female  is  much  like  the  male,  except  that  she  is 
duller  throughout  and  she  generally  lacks  the  black  of 
the  full  plumaged  male.  Usually  there  is  no  chestnut  on 
the  wing,  but  the  speculum  is  white  and  the  bird  may 
be  known  from  any  other  fresh-water  ducks  by  this 
character.  The  young  are  still  more  dull  in  color. 
Often  the  speculum  is  indistinct,  but  there  is  usually 
enough  of  it,  with  the  bill,  to  identify  the  species.  Mn 
Gurdon  Trumbull  was  the  first  to  call  attention  to  the 
presence  in  highly  plumaged  males  of  a  well-defined 
black  ring,  extending  almost  around  the  neck,  between 
the  lighter  feathers  of  the  head  and  neck  and  the 
darker  ones  of  the  breast. 

The  gadwall  duck  is  distributed  over  almost  the 
whole  northern  hemisphere,  being  found  alike  in  Eu- 
rope, Asia,  Africa  and  North  America.  At  the  same 
time  it  is  not  an  abundant  bird  anywhere,  apparently 
never  occurring  in  large  flocks  nor  even  in  frequent 
small  ones. 

In  North  America,  however,  its  distribution  is  gen- 
eral, but  is  chiefly  westward.  Still  it  has  been  found 
breeding  on  the  island  of  Anticosti,  in  the  Gulf  of  St. 


GADWALL.  105 

Lawrence,  New  England  and  Long  Island,  and  to  the 
south  of  this,  generally  along  the  Atlantic  coast.  A 
female  was  captured  in  Bermuda  in  1849. 

The  gadwall  is  not  uncommon  in  Illinois,  Minne- 
sota and  generally  through  the  Mississippi  Valley,  and 
formerly  bred  to  some  extent  over  the  whole  country. 
It  is  said  to  be  common  in  California  in  w^inter  and 
has  been  taken  on  the  Pacific  coast  of  Mexico,  as  well 
as  in  British  Columbia.  Its  chief  breeding  grounds, 
however,  appear  to  be  north  of  the  United  States,  al- 
though no  doubt  to  some  extent  it  passes  the  summer 
in  the  high  mountains  of  the  main  range  from  Colorado 
northward. 

The  male  gadwall  is  a  very  handsome  bird,  particu- 
larly striking  in  his  combination  of  quiet  yet  effective 
colors.  There  are  some  things  about  the  species  which 
remind  one  strongly  of  the  widgeon.  Often  a  large 
flock  of  widgeons  may  include  a  small  number  of  gad- 
walls,  and  often  the  gunner  will  see  from  his  blind  a 
small  flock  of  birds  approaching  him,  which  at  first  he 
imagines  to  be  widgeons,  but  which,  when  they  have 
come  closer,  prove  gadwalls. 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  why  the  gadwall  is  so 
scarce  a  bird.  It  is  true  that  in  his  ornithological  re- 
port of  the  Survey  of  the  Fortieth  Parallel  Mr.  Ridg- 
way  tells  us  that  he  found  it  by  far  the  most  numerous 
duck  during  the  breeding  season  in  Western  Nevada, 
w^here,  in  the  valley  of  the  Truckee  River  from  the  base 
of  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains  to  Pyramid  Lake,  it 
outnumbered  all  other  species  together.     Yet  there  ap- 


I06  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

pears  to  be  no  region  known  where  it  occurs  in  great 
flocks,  like  those  better  known  species  with  which  it 
commonly  associates,  as  the  widgeon  and  the  pintail, 
and,  by  comparison  with  other  species,  gadwalls  are 
very  seldom  killed.  So  far  as  we  know,  this  bird  ought 
to  be  on  the  increase.  It  seems  to  differ  from  most 
ducks  in  not  being  gregarious  and  in  preferring  to  keep 
in  pairs  or  very  small  companies,  perhaps  made  up  of 
the  members  of  a  single  family.  It  pays  little  atten- 
tion to  decoys,  and,  in  my  experience,  seldom  comes  to 
them,  although  occasionally  shot  when  flying  by.* 

The  gadwall  has  a  number  of  common  names,  of 
which  two  of  the  most  familiar  are  gray  duck,  applied 
also  to  two  other  species,  and  creek  duck,  which  is 
used  along  the  Atlantic  coast.  Besides  this  it  is  known 
as  speckle-belly,  from  the  dark  markings  often  seen  on 
the  under  plumage;  blaten  duck,  which  is  nearly  a 
translation  of  its  Latin  name ;  Welsh  drake  and  German 
duck,  given  by  Giraud  and  probably  now  obsolete.  Its 
similarity  to  the  widgeon  is  indicated  by  its  names, 
widgeon  and  gray  widgeon,  used  along  the  southern 
Atlantic  coast,  and  in  England  it  is  sometimes  called 
sand  widgeon. 

The  nest  of  the  gadwall  is  built  on  the  ground  and  is 
a  mere  depression,  lined  with  dried  grass  or  leaves,  and 
sometimes  with  down.  It  is  usually  near  the  water's 
edge  and  well  concealed.  The  eggs  are  of  a  pale  creamy 
yellow. 


*See   lengthy   correspondence   on   this    subject   in   Forest   and 
Stream,  Vol.  Iviii,  January  and  February,  1902. 


EUROPEAN  WIDGEON. 


Anas  penelope  Linn. 


This  species,  so  familiar  in  the  Old  World,  is  a  not  un- 
common straggler  in  North  America.  It  has  been  killed 
in  so  many  different  places  that  it  is  important  that  it 
should  be  described  here.  In  the  adult  male  in  autumn 
and  winter  the  head  and  sides  of  neck  are  bright  rufous, 
almost  the  color  of  the  head  of  the  male  redhead,  but 
without  the  metallic  gloss,  or  still  more  like  the  head  of 
the  male  green-winged  teal.  The  forehead  and  crown  of 
head  are  white,  often  shaded  with  rufous,  so  as  to  be 
cream  color  or  even  pinkish.  The  chin  is  w^^hite ;  throat 
and  part  of  the  front  of  the  neck  black.    Often  there  is 

107 


Io8  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

a  cluster  of  small  blackish  or  greenish  feathers  behind 
the  eye  and  on  the  back  of  the  head,  and  sometimes 
the  sides  of  the  head  are  minutely  streaked  with  dusky. 
The  breast  is  purplish  gray ;  the  sides,  flanks  and  back 
waved  with  cross-bars  of  black  and  white,  the  effect 
being  somewhat  like  that  of  the  same  parts  in  the  male 
green-winged  teal.  The  tertiaries,  or  long  feathers 
growing  from  the  third  bone  of  the  wing,  are  gray  on 
their  inner  webs  and  velvety-black,  edged  with  white 
on  the  outer.  The  wing-coverts  are  white  and  the  spec- 
ulum or  wing-patch  brilliant  metallic  green,  sometimes 
changing  to  black  at  the  extremity.  The  upper  and 
lower  tail-coverts  are  black,  the  other  under  parts  white, 
the  wings  and  tail  brown,  the  tail  often  edged  with 
white.  The  bill  is  bluish,  its  nail  black,  and  the  legs  and 
feet  gray.  The  length  is  about  i8  inches,  wing  be- 
tween lo  and  II  inches. 

In  the  female  the  head  and  neck  are  yellowish-red, 
dotted  with  black  or  greenish  spots  and  sometimes  the 
top  of  the  head  is  altogether  black.  The  general  color 
of  the  upper  parts  is  brown,  the  feathers  being  edged 
and  barred  with  whitish.  The  wing-coverts,  instead 
of  being  white,  are  merely  tipped  with  white,  while 
the  speculum  is  dull  black  or  even  in  the  young  some- 
times grayish.  The  under  parts  are  white,  as  in  the 
male. 

The  female  of  the  European  widgeon  is  not  always 
to  be  easily  distinguished  from  certain  plumages  of  the 
American  bird,  but  its  bill  and  general  aspect  will  al- 
ways identify  it  as  a  widgeon,  and  a  specimen  about 


EUROPEAN    WIDGEON. 


109 


which  there  is  any  doubt  should  always  be  preserved 
for  submission  to  an  ornithologist. 

This  species  belongs  to  the  Old  World,  yet  has  been 
found  over  much  of  the  New.  It  occurs  regularly  in 
Alaska  and  breeds  there,  and,  no  doubt,  it  is  due  to  this 
fact  that  it  has  been  killed  in  California,  Illinois,  New 
York,  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  Virginia  and  Florida. 
I  have  killed  it  in  North  Carolina,  but  it  occurs  there 
so  seldom  that  it  is  not  at  all  known  to  gunners,  and 
my  boatman  when  he  picked  up  this  bird  took  it  at  first 
for  a  redhead  and  afterward  for  a  hybrid. 

Its  habits,  as  observed  in  the  Old  World,  do  not 
greatly  differ  from  those  of  the  American  widgeon, 
and  it  is  said  to  be  as  numerous  in  certain  parts  of  Eu- 
rope as  our  bird  is  here. 

During  the  molting  season  the  male  loses  his  bright 
colors,  which,  however,  are  regained  in  the  early  fall. 


AMERICAN  WIDGEON,   BALD-PATE. 


Anas  americana  Gmel. 


The  male  bald-pate  has  the  forehead  and  crown  of  the 
head  white,  margined  on  either  side  from  the  eyes  to 
the  back  of  the  head  by  a  broad  band  of  metallic  green, 
the  two  bands  meeting  behind  and  sometimes  run- 
ning a  little  way  down  the  neck.  The  head  in  front  of 
the  eyes  and  the  sides  and  upper  neck  are  white,  thickly 
dotted  with  black.  The  throat  is  nearly  white;  the 
lower  neck,  fore-breast,  back  and  sides  lavender  or 
purplish-gray,  sometimes  quite  rich.  The  feathers  of 
the  sides  are  cross-barred  with  fine  lines  of  black ;  the 
back  is  finely  waved  with  lines  of  paler,  changing  to 

110 


AMERICAN     WIDGEON.  1 1 1 

distinct  lines  of  blackish  and  white  on  the  lower  back ; 
the  upper  and  under  tail-coverts  glossy  black;  the  tail 
brownish-gray;  the  wing-coverts  broadly  white,  some 
of  them  tipped  with  black,  so  as  to  make  a  black  bar 
across  the  wing.  The  speculum  is  green  and  black ;  the 
lower  breast  and  belly  white,  which  extends  up  on  the 
sides  of  the  rump.  The  bill  is  light  bluish,  with  a  black 
tip,  and  the  feet  are  somewhat  darker,  with  still  darker 
webs. 

This  is  the  color  of  the  most  highly  plumaged  males, 
and  from  this  there  are  all  gradations  down  to  the 
much  duller  female,  which  entirely  lacks  the  green  head- 
patch,  the  large  white  wing-patch,  and  in  which  the 
speculum  is  very  much  duller,  being  merely  blackish, 
with  a  white  border  in  front.  The  general  aspect  of  the 
female  is  streaked  and  speckled  with  blackish  brown  and 
whitish,  becoming  darker  on  the  breast  and  sides  of 
body.  The  upper  parts  are  grayish  and  the  under  parts 
nearly  white,  the  under  tail-coverts  being  barred  with 
black  and  white.  Young  males  usually  have  the  breast 
purplish-gray,  the  speculum  brilliant,  and  traces  of 
white  wing-coverts. 

The  bald-pate  or  widgeon  is  widely  distributed 
throughout  America  and  is  found  in  winter  as  far  south 
as  Mexico  and  even  Central  America.  It  is  an  occa- 
sional straggler  to  Europe,  but  is  found  there  only  by 
accident.  At  the  present  day  it  is  merely  a  winter  vis- 
itor to  the  United  States,  except  in  certain  portions  of 
the  West,  where  a  few  widgeons  may  still  breed  on  the 
high  central  plateau  or  on  the  flanks  of  the  Rocky 


112  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Mountains.  It  is  not  coiainionly  found  in  New  Eng- 
land, yet  Mr.  Boardman  has  reported  it  as  found  near 
Calais,  Me.,  and  it  occurs  occasionally  on  Long  Island. 
Further  to  the  south,  however,  in  Chesapeake  Bay  and 
on  the  coasts  of  North  and  South  Carolina,  it  is  a  com- 
mon bird  in  winter,  occurring  in  great  flocks  and 
eagerly  sought  after  for  its  flesh,  v/hich  is  very  highly 
esteemed. 

The  widgeons  reach  the  United  States  usually  in  the 
month  of  October,  and  great  numbers  of  them  winter 
in  the  Southern  States.  On  the  Atlantic  coast  they  are 
constantly  found  associated  with  other  species  of  fresh- 
water ducks,  as  well  as  with  the  canvas-backs  and  the 
redheads.  It  is  said  that  they  especially  seek  the  com- 
pany of  the  canvas-backs  when  these  are  feeding,  and 
that  they  rob  them  of  the  grasses  and  celery  which 
they  bring  up  from  great  depths,  which  the  widgeons 
could  never  reach.  At  all  events  it  is  certain  that  they 
as^ociate  with  the  canvas-backs,  and  no  doubt  they 
feed  largely  on  the  leaves  of  the  plants  of  which  the 
canvas-backs  eat  the  roots.  Certain  it  is  that  at  these 
times  and  in  these  places  the  flesh  of  the  widgeon  is  so 
excellent  that  it  cannot  be  distinguished  from  that  of  its 
larger  and  more  famous  companion. 

The  widgeon  is  regarded  as  one  of  the  shyest  of  our 
ducks.  Of  it  Mr.  D.  G.  Elliot,  in  his  admirable  book 
on  the  ''Wild  Fowl  of  North  America,"  says:  'The 
widgeon  is  one  of  the  wariest  of  our  ducks,  suspicious 
of  everything,  and  not  only  is  unwilling  to  approach 
any  spot  or  object  of  which  it  is  afraid,  but  by  keeping 


AMERICAN    WIDGEON.  II3 

Up  a  continuous  whistling  alarms  all  the  other  ducks 
in  the  vicinity  and  consequently  renders  itself  very  dis- 
agreeable and  at  times  a  considerable  nuisance  to  the 
sportsman.  However,  its  flesh  is  so  tender  and  palat- 
able and  it  is  such  a  pretty  and  gamy  bird  that  one  is 
inclined  to  forgive  many  of  its  apparent  shortcomings. 
The  usual  note  of  this  duck  is  a  low,  soft  whistle,  very 
melodious  in  quality,  and  when  on  the  wing  the  mem- 
bers of  a  flock  keep  continually  talking  to  each  other  in 
this  sweet  tone  as  they  speed  along.  They  fly  very  rap- 
idly and  usually  high  in  the  air  in  a  long,  outstretched 
line,  all  abreast,  except  perhaps  the  two  ends  are  a  little 
behind  the  center  bird,  who  may  be  considered  the 
leader.  When  only  moving  from  place  to  place  in  the 
marsh,  and  but  a  short  distance  above  the  ground,  they 
proceed  usually  without  any  order  or  regularity,  re- 
minding one  sometimes  of  a  flock  of  pigeons.  The 
pinions  are  moved  with  much  quickness  and  the  long 
primaries  give  a  sharp-pointed  shape  to  the  wing  that 
causes  the  birds  to  be  easily  recognized.  Flocks  com- 
posed of  a  number  of  widgeon  and  sprig-tail  are  often 
seen,  and  the  combination  is  a  very  unfavorable  one  to 
a  sportsman  hoping  for  a  quiet  shot  at  close  range. 

*'As  the  birds  approach  the  decoys  some  widgeon  will 
whistle  and  edge  out  to  one  side,  as  much  as  to  say,  *It 
may  be  all  right,  but  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  it,'  and  he 
will  be  followed  by  another  suspicious  member.  Then 
the  pintails  become  uneasy  and  begin  to  climb  and  look 
down  into  the  blind,  and  the  patient  watcher  sees  the 
flocks  too  often  sheer  off  to  one  side  and  pass  by.    But 


114  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

should  there  be  some  birds  present,  as  often  happens, 
which  are  heedless  of  all  warnings  or  suspicious  utter- 
ings,  and  keep  steadily  on^  with  the  evident  intention  to 
settle  among  their  supposed  brethren,  then,  as  they 
gather  together  preparatory  to  alighting  and  the  sports- 
man rises  in  his  ambush,  suddenly  the  air  is  filled  with 
darting,  climbing  birds,  who  shoot  off  in  every  direc- 
tion, but  generally  upward  as  if  the  flock  was  blown 
asunder,  and  all  disappear  with  a  celerity  that  is  aston- 
ishing, and,  to  a  nervous  sportsman,  with  results  that 
are  mortifying." 

Notwithstanding  this  watchfulness,  widgeons  often 
come  very  nicely  to  decoys,  and  a  passing  flock,  espe- 
cially if  it  be  small,  may  frequently  be  turned  from  its 
course  by  a  low,  soft  whistle  and  will  swing  into  the  de- 
coys and  drop  in  a  series  of  beautiful  curves  until  they 
are  almost  over  them.  Then,  however,  the  gunner  must 
waste  no  time  in  selecting  his  bird  and  holding  properly 
on  it,  for  the  widgeon  is  able  to  get  out  of  danger  with 
considerable  speed. 

This  species  is  extremely  common  in  California, 
where  it  is  eagerly  sought  after.  In  the  Mississippi 
Valley  region  it  is  not  so  abundant  nor  so  greatly 
esteemed,  for  there  the  mallard,  on  account  of  its 
greater  size,  is  preferred. 

The  breeding  grounds  of  the  widgeon  include  the 
whole  of  British  America  and  Alaska,  but  its  summer 
home  is  rather  in  the  western  portion  of  North  Amer- 
ica and  away  from  the  seacoast.  The  eggs  are  creamy 
white  in  color. 


AMERICAN  WIDGEON. 


115 


Among  the  names  given  by  Mr.  Gurdon  Trumbull, 
in  his  excellent  work  so  frequently  referred  to,  are 
green-headed  widgeon,  bald-head,  southern  widgeon, 
California  widgeon,  white-belly  and  poacher.  Other 
names  are  bald- face,  bald-crown,  wheat  duck  and  smok- 
ing duck. 


^    \^ 


EUROPEAN  TEAL. 
Anas  crecca  Linn. 

This  is  a  European  species,  occurring  only  casually 
in  North  America.  It  very  closely  resembles  the  com- 
mon green-winged  teal,  but  lacks  the  white  bar  on  the 
side  of  the  breast,  has  the  black  and  white  markings  of 
the  back  and  sides  much  heavier,  has  the  inner  webs  of 
the  outer  scapular  and  sometimes  part  of  the  outer 
webs,  white  or  yellowish,  and  the  forehead  bordered  on 
either  side  by  a  pale-buff  line.  The  female  is  so  sim- 
ilar to  the  female  green-winged  teal  that  only  an  ex- 
pert ornithologist  can  distinguish  between  the  two.  The 
European  teal  is  found  occasionally  in  the  Aleutian 
Islands,  and  it  has  frequently  been  exposed  for  sale  in 
the  New  York  markets  with  other  ducks  shot  in  the 

116 


EUROPEAN    TEAL. 


117 


neighborhood.  The  most  important  distinguishing 
mark  between  these  two  very  similar  birds  is  the  white 
bar  on  each  side  of  the  breast,  w^hich  is  so  noticeable  in 
our  green-winged  teal,  but  absent  in  tlie  European 
species. 

in  December,  1900,  two  of  these  teal  were  killed 
near  Merrick,  L.  I.,  N.  Y.,  by  Mr.  Sherman  Smith. 

European  observers  tell  us  that  this  teal  is  abundant 
over  the  Old  World ;  that  it  breeds  in  Great  Britain  and 
Ireland  and  is  common  over  Lapland,  Russia  and 
Northern  Asia.    It  is  readily  domesticated. 


GREEN-WINGED  TEAL. 


Anas  carolinensis  Gmel. 


The  adult  male  has  the  head  and  neck  reddish-chest- 
nut and  a  broad  band  of  metallic  green  on  either  side, 
running  from  the  eye  to  the  back  of  the  neck,  where 
the  two  meet  in  a  tuft.  The  under  side  of  this  green 
band  is  margined  with  a  narrow  line  of  bufif;  the  chin 
is  black;  the  breast  is  reddish  cream-color,  dotted 
with  round  or  oval  spots  of  jet  black.  There  is  a  collar 
round  the  lower  part  of  the  neck;  the  sides  of  the 
breast,  back  of  lower  neck  and  of  the  body  are  finely 
waved  with  lines  of  black  upon  white  ground.  The  back 
is  similarly  marked  and  the  lower  back  is  brownish- 
gray.    The  upper  tail-coverts  are  dark,  margined  with 

118 


GREEN-  WINGED     TEAL.  1 1 9 

white,  and  the  tail  feathers  gray,  edged  with  white.  On 
the  side  of  the  breast,  in  front  of  the  bend  of  the  wing, 
is  a  broad  white  bar.  The  tips  of  the  last  row  of  wing- 
coverts  are  margined  with  yellowish.  The  speculum  is 
black  and  green,  margined  with  white.  The  outer 
scapulars  are  velvety-black.  The  belly  and  a  patch  on 
either  side  of  the  under  tail-coverts  are  rich  buff,  the 
under  tail-coverts  black.  The  bill  is  dark,  nearly  black, 
and  the  feet  grayish-black.  The  length  is  about  14J 
inches. 

The  female  is  brownish,  the  feathers  being  gener- 
ally margined  with  buff.  The  sides  of  head  are  whit- 
ish, speckled  with  brownish.  The  wing  is  like  that 
of  the  male,  but  the  speculum  is  somewhat  smaller 
and  duller.  The  breast  is  usually  more  or  less  spotted 
and  the  under  parts  are  white,  with  faint  indications  of 
spots. 

The  green- winged  teal  is  found  over  the  whole  of 
North  America,  from  the  Arctic  Sea  on  the  north  to 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico  and  Central  America  on  the  south. 
It  occurs  also  in  Cuba.  It  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
of  our  ducks  and  is  highly  esteemed  by  gunners. 

Unlike  many  of  our  better  known  fresh-water  ducks, 
the  green-vvinged  teal  is  rather  common  in  New  Eng- 
land, as  well  as  in  the  interior  and  to  the  southward, 
and  wherever  found  it  is  a  great  favorite.  It  flies  with 
astonishing  speed,  but  with  great  steadiness,  and  often 
the  flocks  are  of  very  great  size  and  fly  so  closely 
bunched  together  that  they  resemble  more  a  flock  of  mi- 
grating blackbirds  than  of  ducks.     At  such  times,  if 


I20  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

they  suddenly  become  aware  of  the  presence  of  the 
gunner,  the  bunch  flies  apart  hke  an  exploding  bomb 
and  the  birds  dart  in  all  directions  and  at  such  a  rate 
that  it  takes  a  quick  shooting  to  catch  them.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  the  shots  can  be  fired  into  this  close  mass 
the  havoc  created  is  very  great;  ten,  twenty  or  thirty 
birds  sometimes  being  killed  by  the  discharge  of  two 
barrels. 

While  the  green-winged  teal  is  much  at  home 
on  the  water  and  is  a  good  diver  in  times  of  danger,  it 
is  also  very  much  at  home  on  the  land,  over  which  it 
runs  with  considerable  speed. 

Although  this  species  breeds  chiefly  to  the  north  of 
the  United  States,  its  nests  have  been  taken  in  Wiscon- 
sin, Iowa  and  on  the  prairies  and  in  the  mountains  of 
the  West.  I  have  seen  it  in  Montana,  Wyoming  and 
Colorado,  accompanied  by  young,  and  I  recall  one  oc- 
casion in  North  Park,  Colorado,  where  I  spent  a  very 
pleasant  half  hour  watching  an  old  female  and  her 
young  as  they  busily  fed  in  the  narrow  stream  near 
where  I  sat.  The  mother  bird  at  length  discovered  me, 
and  though  not  greatly  alarmed,  she  promptly  led  her 
flock  of  eight  tiny  young  ashore,  where,  in  a  long  line, 
with  the  mother  at  the  head,  they  promptly  trotted  into 
the  bushes  and  concealed  themselves. 

The  green-wing  is  a  more  hardy  bird  than  the  blue- 
winged  teal  and  is  often  found  on  warm  springs  and 
streams  in  the  North  long  after  the  ice  has  closed  most 
of  the  quiet  waters.  I  have  seen  it  in  Connecticut  in  the 
early  winter,  when  almost  everything  was  frozen  up. 


GREEN-  WINGED    TEAL. 


121 


The  nest  of  the  teal  is  commonly  placed  not  far 
from  the  water,  in  high  grass  or  sometimes  among  a 
tussock  of  rye  grass,  or  I  have  even  found  it  on  top  of  a 
dry  ridge,  under  a  sage  brush  at  quite  a  long  distance 
from  any  stream.  The  eggs  are  small  and  apparently  a 
little  rounder  than  duck  eggs  usually  are.  The  number 
in  a  nest  varies  from  ten  to  fifteen. 


4f'-~^^ 


BLUE-WINGED  TEAL. 


Anas  disc  or s  Linn. 


The  adult  male  has  the  top  of  the  head  and  the  chin 
black ;  a  white  crescent-shaped  band,  edged  with,  black, 
extends  from  the  forehead  above  the  eye  down  to  be- 
low the  bill;  the  rest  of  the  head  is  dark  lead-color, 
sometimes  with  glossy  purplish  reflections.  The  long 
scapulars  running  back  from  the  shoulder  are  black, 
streaked  with  buff.  The  back  and  upper  parts  gener- 
ally, dark  brown  and  dull  black,  spotted,  barred  and 
streaked  with  buff.  The  lower  back  is  dull  brown ;  the 
smaller  wing-coverts  at  the  bend  of  the  wing  sky-blue, 
as  are  also  some  of  the  long  shoulder  feathers.  A  wide 
bar  of  white  across  the  wing,  above  the  speculum,  which 
is  green,  separates  the  blue  and  the  green.    There  is  a 

122 


BLUE-WINGED   TEAL.  I23 

narrow  lirxC  of  white  at  the  extremity  of  the  speculum 
and  a  patch  on  either  side  of  the  tail.  The  lower  parts 
are  light  chestnut,  thickly  speckled  with  black.  The 
under  tail-coverts  are  black,  as  is  also  the  bill.  The 
eyes,  legs  and  feet  are  yellow,  the  latter  with  dusky 
markings. 

The  female  is  always  to  be  known  by  the  blue  mark- 
ings on  the  wing,  though  the  brilliant  green  speculum 
is  often  wantingo  The  chin,  throat  and  base  of  the  bill 
are  white,  marked  with  blackish,  and  the  head  and  neck 
streaked  and  speckled  with  dusky  brown.  The  other 
parts  are  dark  brown,  speckled  with  dusky  brown.  The 
bird  is  slightly  larger  than  the  green-winged  teal. 

The  blue-winged  teal  is  often  called  summer  teal,  and 
this  gives  a  hint  as  to  one  of  its  habits.  It  is  apparently 
a  bird  of  more  southern  distribution  than  the  other 
teals  and  is  almost  the  earliest  of  the  migrating  ducks 
to  make  its  appearance.  The  first  to  arrive  are  com- 
monly found  on  our  streams  in  late  August  or  early 
September,  and  persons  who  are  pushing  through  the 
marshes  in  search  of  rail  very  frequently  start  little 
bunches  of  blue- wings  from  the  open  places.  It  may  be 
imagined  that  such  birds  have  not  come  from  a  great 
distance.  Indeed,  the  blue-winged  teal  breeds  at  many 
points  in  the  West,  and  would  do  so  more  frequently 
were  the  birds  permitted  to  make  their  northward  mi- 
gration without  being  disturbed  by  gunners. 

The  blue-wing  is  common  througliout  Eastern  Amer- 
ica, but  in  the  West  its  place  is  chiefly  taken  by  the  cin- 
namon teal,  a  closely  related  species.    In  its  northward 


124  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

migrations  the  blue-winged  teal  is  found  summering  on 
the  Great  Slave  Lake,  and  Mr.  Dall  tells  of  having  seen 
it  on  the  Yukon,  and  it  has  been  reported  from  other 
points  in  Alaska.  It  breeds  also  in  Northern  New  Eng- 
land, as  well  as  near  the  prairie  sloughs  of  some  of  the 
States  of  the  Central  West.  The  nest  is  placed  on  the 
ground,  among  reeds  and  grasses,  and  is  usually,  but 
not  always,  near  the  water.  It  is  lined  with  down  from 
the  mother's  breast,  and  when  she  leaves  the  nest  she 
covers  the  eggs  with  this  down  and  over  it  places  more 
or  less  grass.  The  number  of  eggs  is  said  to  be  from 
eight  to  twelve. 

During  the  winter  these  birds  reach  Mexico  and 
Central  America  and  are  commonly  found  in  Florida 
and  the  Gulf  States.  They  feed  in  great  numbers  in 
the  southern  rice  fields,  where  they  are  reported  to  be 
caught  in  great  numbers  by  means  of  traps  set  by  the 
negroes.  Teal  are  abundant  in  the  low  country  about 
the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  where  they  are  known  to 
the  Creoles  as  printannierre  and  autonnierre,  according 
to  the  season  in  which  they  are  seen. 

The  teal  frequently  travel  in  very  large  flocks,  and  the 
speed  wdth  which  they  move  and  the  closeness  with 
which  they  are  huddled  together  have  become  proverbial 
among  gunners.  They  come  up  readily  to  decoys  and 
not  infrequently  a  large  flock  may  come  in  without 
warning  to  a  heedless  gunner  and  drop  down  among 
his  stools  before  he  sees  them.  When  he  stands  up  to 
shoot,  the  teal  leave  the  water  as  the  mallard  does,  by  a 
single  spring,  and  dart  away  in  all  directions,  coming 


BLUE-WINGED  TEAL. 


125 


together  again  and  going  on  in  a  close  bunch.  If  a 
flock  is  seen  flying  by,  they  may  sometimes  be  attracted 
by  a  soft,  lisping  note,  and  if  they  see  the  decoys  they 
are  likely  to  drop  in  among  them.  The  blue-winged 
teal  is  fond  of  running  about  over  mud  flats  and  sifting 
them  for  food,  and  in  localities  where  they  are  abund- 
ant a  place  such  as  this  is  one  of  the  very  best  in  which 
to  tie  out  for  them. 

As  with  the  green-wing  so  with  this  species — great 
numbers  may  be  killed  by  the  single  discharge  of  a  gun, 
provided  it  is  properly  aimed.  Audubon  speaks  of 
having  seen  eighty-four  birds  killed  by  the  single  dis- 
charge of  a  double-barreled  gun. 


CINNAMON  TEAL. 


Anas  cyanoptera  Vieill. 


In  the  adult  male  the  top  of  the  head  is  blackish- 
brown,  while  the  rest  of  the  head,  the  neck  and  lower 
parts  are  bright  chestnut.  This  color  grows  darker  on 
the  belly,  until  it  is  quite  black  on  the  under  tail-coverts. 
The  scapulars,  or  shoulder  feathers,  and  a  part  of  the 
back,  are  chestnut,  the  feathers  having  paler  edges  and 
the  long  ones  a  buff  central  stripe ;  these  are  also  barred 
with  black.  The  smaller  wing-coverts  and  the  outer 
webs  of  some  of  the  scapulars  are  sky-blue.  The  middle 
coverts  are  dark,  tipped  with  white,  and  the  speculum  is 
•dark  metallic  green.  The  tail  is  blackish,  the  bill  is 
black,  the  eyes  yellow  or  orange  and  the  feet  are  bright 
yellow,  with  touches  of  dusky.  The  female  is  very  much 

126 


'^    c 


-^S^ 


CINNAMON    TEAL.  1 27 

like  the  female  blue-winged  teal,  but  is  larger  and  some- 
what more  richly  colored.  The  belly  is  usually  dis- 
tinctly spotted.    Length,  17  inches;  wing,  7 J  inches. 

The  cinnamon  teal  is  a  western  species.  It  is  rarely 
found  as  far  east  as  the  Mississippi  Valley,  though  it  has 
been  taken  in  Florida,  but  such  birds  are  mere  accidental 
wanderers.  The  cinnamon  teal  becomes  abundant  after 
the  main  Continental  Divide  is  crossed  and  is  a  common 
breeder  and  migrant  all  through  the  Rocky  Mountains 
and  in  California.  In  summer  it  is  found  as  far  north 
as  the  Columbia  River,  and  probably  breeds  freely  all 
through  the  Western  United  States,  I  have  found  its 
nest  in  Wyoming  placed  under  a  small  sage  bush, 
thirty  or  forty  yards  from  a  little  mountain  stream 
that  was  nearly  dry.  It  had  eleven  eggs,  ivory-white 
in  color,  and  there  was  no  down  in  the  nest  nor  any 
appreciable  lining. 

In  his  account  of  the  cinnamon  teal,  published  in  the 
*'Birds  of  the  Northwest,"  Dr.  Coues  paints  one  of 
those  charming  word  pictures  which  make  his  writings 
such  delightful  reading  as  well  for  sportsmen  as  for 
naturaHsts.  He  says  of  it :  *1  never  think  of  the  bird 
without  recalHng  scenes  in  which  it  was  a  prominent 
figure.  I  have  in  mind  a  picture  of  the  headwaters  of 
the  Rio  Verde,  in  November,  just  before  winter  had 
fairly  set  in,  although  frosts  had  already  touched  the 
foliage  and  dressed  every  tree  and  bush  in  gorgeous 
colors.  The  atmosphere  showed  a  faint  yellow  haze 
and  was  heavy  with  odors — souvenirs  of  departing 
flowers.     The  sap  of  the  trees  coursed  sluggishly,  no 


128  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

longer  lending  elastic  vigor  to  the  limbs,  that  now 
cracked  and  broke  when  forced  apart;  the  leaves 
loosened  their  hold,  for  want  of  the  same  mysterious 
tie,  and  fell  in  showers  where  the  quail  rustled  over  their 
withering  forms.  Woodpeckers  rattled  with  exultation 
against  the  resounding  bark  and  seemed  to  know  of 
the  greater  store  for  them  now  in  the  nerveless,  drowsy 
trees  that  resisted  the  chisel  less  stoutly  than  when  they 
were  full  of  juicy  life.  Ground  squirrels  worked  hard, 
gathering  the  last  seeds  and  nuts  to  increase  their  win- 
ter's store,  and  cold-blooded  reptiles  dragged  their  stif- 
fening joints  to  bask  in  sunny  spots  and  stimulate  the 
slow  current  of  circulation  before  they  should  with- 
draw and  sink  into  torpor.  Wildfowl  came  flocking 
from  their  northern  breeding  places — among  them 
thousands  of  teal — hurtling  overhead  and  plashing  in 
the  waters  they  were  to  enliven  and  adorn  all  winter. 

"The  up)per  parts  of  both  forks  of  the  Verde  are 
filled  with  beavers  that  have  dammed  the  streams  at 
short  intervals  and  transformed  them  in  some  places 
into  a  succession  of  pools,  where  the  teal  swim  in  still 
water.  Other  wildfowl  join  them,  such  as  mallards, 
pintails  and  green-wings,  disporting  together.  The  ap- 
proach to  the  open  waters  is  difficult  in  most  places 
from  the  rank  growths,  first  of  shrubbery  and  next  of 
reeds,  that  fringe  the  open  banks ;  in  other,  places,  where 
Ihe  stream  narrows  in  precipitous  gorges,  from  the  al- 
most inaccessible  rocks.  But  these  difficulties  over- 
come, it  is  a  pleasant  sight  to  see  the  birds  before  us — 
perhaps  within  a  few  paces  if  we  have  very  carefully 


CINNAMON    TEAL.  1 29 

crawled  through  the  rushes  to  the  verge — fancying 
themselves  perfectly  secure.  Some  may  be  quietly  pad- 
dling in  and  out  of  the  sedge  on  the  other  side,  daintily 
picking  up  the  floating  seeds  that  were  shaken  down 
when  the  wind  rustled  through,  stretching  up  to  gather 
those  still  hanging  or  to  pick  off  little  creatures  from 
the  seared  stalks.  Perhaps  a  flock  is  floating  idly  in  mid- 
stream, some  asleep,  with  the  head  resting  close  on  the 
back  and  the  bill  buried  in  the  plumage.  Some  others 
swim  vigorously  along,  with  breasts  deeply  immersed, 
tasting  the  water  as  they  go,  straining  it  through  their 
bills  to  net  minute  insects,  and  gabbling  to  each  other 
their  sense  of  perfect  enjoyment.  But  let  them  appear 
never  so  careless,  they  are  quick  to  catch  the  sound  of 
coming  danger  and  take  alarm ;  they  are  alert  in  an  in- 
stant ;  the  next  incautious  movement  or  snapping  of  a 
twig  startles  them ;  a  chorus  of  quacks,  a  splashing  of 
feet,  a  whistling  of  wings,  and  the  whole  company  is  off. 
He  is  a  good  sportsman  who  stops  them  then,  for  the 
stream  twists  about,  the  reeds  confuse  and  the  birds  are 
out  of  sight  almost  as  soon  as  seen. 

"Much  as  elsewhere,  I  presume,  the  duck  hunter  has 
to  keep  his  wits  about  him  and  be  ready  to  act  at  very 
short  notice ;  but  there  is  double  necessity  on  the  Verde. 
The  only  passages  along  the  stream  are  Indian  trails 
here  always  warpaths.  In  retaliation  for  real  or  fan- 
cied wrongs — or  partly,  at  least,  from  inherent  dispo- 
sition— these  savages  spend  most  of  their  time  in  wan- 
dering about  in  hopes  of  plunder  and  murder;  this, 
too,  against  each  other,  so  long  as  the  tribes  are  not 


130  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

leagued  in  common  cause  against  a  common  enemy. 
On  the  day  I  have  in  mind  more  particularly  we  passed 
a  spot  where  lay  the  bodies  of  several  Apaches.  From 
the  arrows  still  sticking  in  them  wx  judged  afterward 
that  they  had  been  killed  by  a  stray  band  of  Navajos. 
But  this  was  not  what  we  thought  most  about  at  the 
time.  We  were  only  four  together  and  this  was  close  by 
the  place  we  designed  to  spend  the  day  in  hunting  and 
fishing.  Contemplation  of  the  decaying  Indians  was  not 
calculated  to  raise  our  spirits,  for  though,  of  course,  we 
knew  the  danger  beforehand  and  meant  to  take  our 
chances,  it  was  not  pleasant  to  have  the  thing  brought 
up  in  such  a  way.  We  kept  on  through  the  canyon  a 
little  more  cautiously,  talked  a  little  more  seriously  and 
concluded  to  look  for  game  in  places  where  there  was 
the  least  likelihood  of  an  ambuscade.  I  confess  that 
the  day's  sport  was  rather  too  highly  spiced  to  be  alto- 
gether enjoyable,  and  suspect  that  others  shared  my 
uncomfortable  conviction  of  foolhardiness.  However, 
the  day  passed  w^ithout  further  intimation  of  danger. 
Game  was  plenty  and  the  shooting  good.  Out  of  the 
woods  and  with  a  good  bag,  we  were  disposed  and  could 
better  afford  to  laugh  at  each  other's  fears." 

The  habits  of  the  red-breasted  teal  do  not  differ 
markedly  from  that  of  the  eastern  relative,  which  it  so 
closely  resembles. 

The  true  home  of  this  species  seems  to  be  in  Southern 
North  America  and  South  America,  and  it  is  found  in 
Chili,  Patagonia  and  the  Falkland  Islands.  It  is  a  bird 
that  gives  great  shooting  to  western  sportsmen. 


SHOVELLER. 

Spatula  clypeata  (Linn.), 


The  male  shoveller  has  the  head  and  the  upper  neck 
very  dark  glossy  green,  with  violet  reflections,  an  en- 
tirely different  color  from  that  of  the  mallard,  almost 
black.  The  lower  neck  and  breast  are  white;  belly 
and  sides  rich  chestnut  brown.  The  under  tail-coverts 
and  vent  are  black,  bordered  by  a  gray  line,  a  patch  of 
white  at  either  side  of  the  rump.  The  back  is  dusky 
brown;  the  upper  tail-coverts  black;  the  long  scapu- 
lars, or  shoulder  feathers,  streaked  with  black  and 
white;  the  wing-coverts  are  light  blue,  the  last  row 
tipped  with  white,  forming  a  narrow  band  across  the 
wing,  and  back  of  this  is  a  bright  green  speculum  nar- 

131 


132  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

rowly  bordered  by  white.  The  tail  is  whitish,  blotched 
with  brownish-gray.  The  expanded  bill  is  black,  the 
eyes  yellow  and  the  feet  orange-red. 

The  female  is  colored  very  much  as  is  the  female 
mallard,  but  has  the  blue  wing-coverts  and  the  green 
speculum.  The  belly  is  sometimes  pure  white.  The 
bill  is  orange  or  brown,  often  speckled  with  black.  The 
feet  are  orange.  Length,  about  19  inches;  wdng,  9  to 
10  inches. 

Young  males  of  different  ages  have  the  plumage 
generally  like  the  female,  but  as  they  grow  older  the 
head  and  neck  are  mottled  with  black  and  the  under 
parts  are  often  chestnut.  Whatever  the  plumage,  the 
shoveller  may  be  recognized  by  the  great  expansion  of 
the  bill  toward  the  tip,  which  gives  it  the  name  spoon- 
bill. This  bill  has  a  fringe  of  very  slender,  close-set 
lamellae,  which  are  long  yet  flexible,  and  are  admirably 
adapted  to  the  process  of  sifting  out  food  from  the  fine 
soft  mud  in  which  the  shoveller  delights  to  feed. 

This  species  is  one  of  the  most  widely  distributed  of 
all  the  ducks,  being  found  throughout  the  whole  of  the 
northern  hemisphere.  In  North  America  it  is  nowhere 
a  very  abundant  duck,  but,  at  the  same  time,  is  fre- 
quently met  with  throughout  the  South  and  West ;  yet 
it  never  appears  in  great  flocks,  as  do  the  black  duck, 
mallard,  widgeon  and  the  teals,  but  rather  in  small,  oc- 
casional companies,  though  I  have  seen  a  flock  number- 
ing nearly  a  hundred.    This,  however,  is  unusual. 

On  the  New  England  coast  and  Long  Island  the 
shoveller  is  quite  an  uncommon  bird,  but  further  to  the 


SHOVELLER,  1 33 

southward,  as  in  Maryland  and  North  Carolina,  it  is 
frequently  killed.  In  many  of  its  ways,  as,  of  course, 
in  its  appearance  in  some  respects,  it  resembles  the  teals, 
but  it  is  much  less  gregarious  in  its  habits.  The  shov- 
eller breeds  from  Texas  to  Alaska,  and  I  have  fre- 
quently found  the  nests  in  Dakota,  Montana  and  Wyo- 
ming, usually  near  prairie  lakes,  often  under  a  bunch 
of  rye  grass  or  a  sage  brush  and  usually  fairly  well  con- 
cealed. There  are  usually  a  few  feathers  and  some  down 
in  the  nest,  which  contains  eight  or  ten  greenish-white 
eggs.  The  female  sits  close,  but  when  startled  from 
her  nest  flies  away  without  sound  and  soon  disappears. 

The  young,  when  first  hatched,  do  not  show  the  pe- 
culiar shape  of  the  bill  possessed  by  the  adult,  this  being 
a  later  development.  Young  birds  of  the  first  season, 
when  killed  in  the  fall,  will  be  found  to  have  the  bill 
very  flexible,  so  that  it  can  be  bent  in  every  direction. 
The  shoveller  is  a  fine  table  bird,  but  because  of  the 
small  numbers  that  are  killed  it  is  not  very  well  known. 

Mr.  Trumbull  gives  as  the  names  for  this  bird  the 
blue-winged  shoveller,  red-breasted  shoveller,  shovel- 
bill,  broady,  butler  duck — ''the  bird  being  so  called  be- 
cause of  its  spoon-like  bill,  and  with  reference  to  a  well- 
known  general  in  the  civil  war" — cow-frog,  spoon-billed 
widgeon,  spoon-billed  teal,  mud-shoveller  and  swaddle- 
bill.  In  Louisiana  the  bird  is  known  as  mesquin.  The 
note  of  the  shoveller  is  a  weak  quack,  somewhat  like 
that  of  the  green-winged  teal.*^ 

*Compare  "California  Duck  Notes,"  by  Robert  Erskine  Ross, 
Forest  and  Stream,  Vol.  lix,  p.  67,  July  26,  1902. 


PINTAIL. 


Daiila  acuta  (Linn.). 


The  male  pintail  has  the  head  and  upper  neck  wood 
brown,  darkest  on  the  crown,  often  with  greenish,  red- 
dish and  purple  reflections.  A  part  of  the  hind  neck  is 
black;  lower  down  it  becomes  grayish,  finely  barred 
with  dusky,  gray  and  white.  The  front  of  back  and  sides 
are  waved  with  very  fine  cross  bars  of  white  and  black. 
Most  of  the  wing  is  gray  or  brownish.  The  speculum 
is  green,  in  some  lights  coppery,  margined  with  white, 
tawny  and  black,  and  with  a  cinnamon-colored  bar  in 
front.  A  line  beginning  at  the  back  of  the  head  and 
passing  down  the  side  of  neck  is  white,  running  into  the 

134 


PINTAIL.  135 

white  of  the  fore-neck  and  under  parts.  The  long 
feathers  growing  from  the  third  bone  of  the  wing  are 
pale  gray,  with  a  black  strip  down  the  middle.  The 
long  scapulars,  or  shoulder  feathers,  are  black,  edged 
with  whitish.'  The  upper  and  under  tail-coverts  are 
black,  touched  with  white  on  the  outside,  forming  a 
line  of  white.  The  tail  feathers  are  mostly  gray  and 
brown,  but  the  long  central  pair,  which  are  narrow  and 
pointed,  and  extend  far  beyond  the  others,  are  black. 
The  bill  is  bluish-gray,  eyes  brown,  and  the  legs  and 
feet  gray.    Length,  26-30  inches;  wing,  over  10  inches. 

The  female  is  one  of  the  plain  grayish  ducks,  resem- 
bling in  a  general  way  the  female  mallard,  or  the  female 
green-winged  teal.  The  ground  color  of  the  upper 
parts  is  rusty  or  whitish,  streaked  with  dusky  or  brown- 
ish. The  chin  and  throat  are  whitish ;  the  wing-coverts 
brownish-gray,  edged  with  white.  The  under  parts  are 
white,  streaked  with  dusky.  The  bird  is  always  to  be 
distinguished  by  its  bill  and  its  feet. 

The  pintail  is  a  bird  of  wide  distribution,  inhabiting 
the  whole  of  the  northern  hemisphere,  from  Alaska  on 
the  west  to  Japan  and  Northern  Kamschatka  on  the 
east.  In  America  it  is  found  all  over  the  country,  at  dif- 
ferent seasons  of  the  year,  from  ocean  to  ocean,  and 
from  the  shores  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to  the  Arctic  Sea. 
In  winter  it  is  found  in  Cuba  also.  Although  breeding 
in  Alaska,  on  the  Mackenzie  River,  and  in  Greenland,  it 
is  also  a  summer  resident  of  the  Western  United  States, 
and  breeds  in  considerable  numbers  in  Dakota,  Idaho, 
Montana  and  Wyoming.    I  have  found  their  nests  there 


136  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

m  the  middle  of  June,  the  young  not  yet  having  made 
their  appearance. 

The  pintail  is  not  very  abundant  in  autumn  on  the 
New  England  coast,  though  it  is  found  occasionally  in 
Maine  and  Massachusetts,  and  in  somewhat  greater 
abundance  in  Connecticut,  where  it  is  known  as  pheas- 
ant. On  Long  Island  it  is  more  common  during  the 
migrations,  and  when  we  reach  the  coast  of  Virginia 
and  North  Carolina  it  is  one  of  the  abundant  ducks. 
Here  it  often  associates  with  the  mallard  and  black 
duck,  and  when  the  birds  fly  to  and  fro  from  their  feed- 
ing grounds,  a  small  bunch  may  contain  four  or  five 
mallards,  two  or  three  black  ducks  and  an  equal  number 
of  pintails.  On  the  other  hand,  little  flocks  made  up 
only  of  pintails  are  often  seen. 

In  the  first  volume  of  the  ''Water  Birds"  Dr.  Brewer 
gives  the  following  abridgment  of  Mr.  Kennicott's  ac- 
count of  the  pintail  in  the  north :  *'The  summer  home 
of  the  pintail  is  within  the  Arctic  region,  farther  to 
the  northward  than  that  of  any  other  of  our  fresh- 
water ducks,  comparatively  few  breeding  south  of 
Great  Slave  Lake.  In  their  spring  migrations  to  the 
northward  they  move  in  immense  flocks,  which  only  dis- 
perse upon  their  arrival  at  their  breeding  groimds.  A 
few  reach  that  lake  about  May  i,  but  the  main  body  ar- 
rive about  a  week  or  so  later,  and  mostly  pass  directly 
on  across  the  lake  to  the  northward.  On  the  Yukon 
the  first  specimens  were  seen  in  the  latter  part  of  April, 
and  before  the  lOth  of  May  they  had  arrived  in  im- 
mense flocks,  which  remained  some  time  together  in 


PINTAIL,  137 

that  vicinity  before  passing  farther  north  or  separating 
to  breed.  At  this  time  the  birds  were  fat,  and  their 
flesh  deHcious,  much  superior  to  that  of  any  other 
duck,  except  the  widgeon.  At  the  Yukon  the  pintails 
are  the  latest  in  nesting  of  any  of  the  fresh-water  ducks, 
and  generally  hatch  a  week  or  two  after  the  mallard. 
He  found  them  breeding  in  the  same  grounds  and  at 
about  the  same  time,  with  Fulix  aMnis,  though  they  do 
not  associate  with  that  species.  He  always  found  their 
nests  in  low  but  dry  ground,  under  the  shelter  of  trees 
or  bushes,  though  never  among  thick,  large  trees,  and 
not  more  than  two  or  tliree  rods  from  water.  They 
never  build  on  hummocks  in  the  water,  nor  on  high 
land,  but  always  just  upon  the  edge  of  a  marsh  or  lake. 
The  nest  is  usually  placed  at  the  foot  of  a  willow, 
among  grass  rather  than  leaves  or  moss,  and  is  ex- 
tremely simple,  being  composed  of  merely  a  few  bits  of 
broken  dry  grass  and  sticks,  but  well  lined  with  down. 
The  eggs  are  from  seven  to  nine  in  number,  and  rather 
small  in  size." 

Mr.  E.  W.  Nelson,  whose  studies  of  northern  birds 
are  so  interesting,  has  given  a  graphic  account  of  the 
breeding  habits  of  the  pintail,  and,  among  otlier  things, 
calls  attention  to  an  act  by  this  duck  curiously  similar 
to  the  well-known  drumming  of  the  snipe.  The  bird 
falls  from  a  great  height,  with  wings  held  stiff  and 
curved,  and  producing  a  sound  which  at  first  is  low,  but 
gradually  grows  louder,  until,  as  the  bird  reaches  the 
ground  in  its  diagonal  fall,  the  sound  becomes  very 
loud.     A  man  who  has  had  a  bunch  of  canvas-backs  or 


138 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


black-heads  sweep  down  over  him  as  they  prepare  to 
aHght,  can  well  imagine  what  this  sound  is  like.  The 
cry  of  the  pintail  in  autumn  and  winter  is  a  low,  lisping 
whistle,  but  at  other  times  it  is  said  to  utter  a  sound 
something  like  the  quack  of  the  mallard,  and  also  one 
similar  to  the  rolling  note  produced  by  the  black-head. 

The  pintail  is  quite  a  shy  bird ;  its  usual  flight  is  high 
in  the  air,  which  gives  it  an  opportunity  to  inspect  the 
country  for  signs  of  danger.  Often,  however,  if  the 
weather  is  favorable,  these  birds  come  well  to  decoys, 
and  are  easily  killed. 

There  are  few  more  graceful  species  than  this.  The 
long  pointed  wings,  the  slender  form,  terminating  in  a 
long  neck  and  tail,  and  the  swift  flight,  make  the  bird  a 
very  beautiful  one. 

This  species  rejoices  in  many  names,  and  some  of 
them  given  by  Mr.  Trumbull  are  pied  gray  duck, 
gray  widgeon,  sea  widgeon,  split-tail,  sprig-tail,  spike- 
tail,  picket-tail,  sea  pheasant,  water  pheasant,  long 
neck,  sharp-tail  and  spindle-tail. 


WOOD  DUCK. 


Aix  sponsa  (Linn.), 

The  adult  male  has  the  head  and  long  thick  crest  rich 
green  and  purple,  with  brilliant  metallic  reflections.  A 
narrow  line  of  white  starts  from  the  upper  angle  of  the 
bill,  passing  over  the  eye,  and  continuing  down  into 
the  crest.  Another  wider  line  starts  behind  the  eye  and 
runs  down  into  the  under  part  of  the  crest.  The  throat 
and  upper  neck  are  white,  sending  out  two  branches, 
one  up  behind  the  eye,  another  back  behind  the  head, 
partly  enclosing  the  violet  black  of  the  lower  back  of  the 
head.  The  lower  neck  and  breast  are  rich  chestnut 
glossed  with  purple,  dotted  in  front  with  triangular 

139 


I40  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

spots  of  white.  The  back  is  purpHsh-black,  with  glossy 
reflections,  as  are  also  the  upper  wing-coverts.  The 
shoulder  feathers  and  tertiaries  are  black,  with  blue, 
green  and  purple  reflections,  and  the  longest  of  the  ter- 
tiary feathers  is  tipped  with  white.  On  the  side  of  the 
breast,  just  in  front  of  the  wing,  is  a  broad  white  bar, 
and  below  it,  another  bar,  which  is  black.  The  sides 
and  flanks  are  finely  waved  with  black  lines  on  a  brown- 
ish-yellow ground,  many  of  the  feathers  having  a  bar 
of  black,  bordered  with  white  at  the  extremities.  The 
under  parts  are  pure  white,  but  the  under  tail-coverts 
are  glossy  black.  The  upper  tail-coverts  are  long,  fall 
over  the  tail  on  either  side,  and  are  rich  with  metallic 
reflections.  The  bill  is  deep  red,  with  a  black  spot  near 
the  base,  a  white  spot  on  the  side,  a  yellow  border  to 
the  base,  and  with  a  black  nail.  The  eyes  are  bright 
carmine  red,  surrounded  by  orange-red  or  scarlet  eye- 
lids. The  legs  and  feet  are  yellow,  with  dusky  joints 
and  webs. 

The  adult  female  is  generally  gray,  or  greenish-gray, 
but  her  markings,  in  a  general  way,  resemble  those  of 
the  male.  She  has  the  crest,  but  not  so  much  of  it  as 
the  male.  The  throat  and  under  parts  are  white;  the 
breast  and  sides  greenish-gray,  dotted  with  white  mark- 
ings; the  upper  parts  are  more  brownish,  and  have 
purple  and  bronzy  reflections.  The  secondaries  are 
white-tipped.  The  bill  is  dusky,  and  there  is  a  narrow 
line  of  white  all  about  it.  The  length  is  about  19  inches, 
wing  9^  inches. 

The  wood  duck  is  easily  the  most  beautiful  of  North 


WOOD    DUCK.  141 

American  ducks.  It  is  commonly  compared  with  the 
mandarin  duck  of  China,  but  it  is  larger  and  its  dress  is 
a  little  more  highly  colored,  and  while  more  rich,  is  yet 
more  simple. 

This  is  a  bird  of  the  South,  and  breeds  everywhere 
throughout  the  Eastern  and  Southern  United  States, 
in  suitable  localities.  Unlike  most  of  our  ducks,  it  is 
not  a  migrant  to  the  far  North,  though  it  has  been 
found  as  far  North  as  latitude  54  degrees,  but  it  con- 
fines itself  pretty  well  to  the  United  States,  and  further 
to  the  southward. 

The  wood  duck  is  a  bird  of  swamps  and  small  inland 
waters,  and  is  notable  as  being  one  of  the  few  species 
which  ahvays  nests  in  trees.  Sometimes  it  takes  pos- 
session of  a  hole  excavated  by  a  great  woodpecker,  or 
it  may  adapt  a  hollow  in  a  trunk  or  branch  to  its  use.  It 
is  very  much  at  home  in  the  timber,  and  threads  its  way 
among  the  tree-tops  at  great  speed.  The  eggs  are 
often  laid  on  the  bare  wood  that  forms  the  floor  of  the 
cavity  w^hich  it  occupies,  but,  as  incubation  goes  on,  the 
mother  plucks  more  or  less  down  from  her  breast  to 
cover  them.  When  the  young  are  hatched,  if  the  nest 
is  over  the  water,  they  crawl  to  the  opening  and 
throw  themselves  into  the  air  to  fall  into  the  water.  If, 
however,  the  nest  is  at  a  distance  from  the  shore,  the 
mother  carries  them  to  the  water  in  her  bill.  When  the 
young  ducks  are  hatched  their  claws  are  exceedingly 
sharp,  and  they  are  great  climbers.  They  thus  have 
little  difficulty  in  making  their  way  to  the  mouth  of 
the  hole. 


142 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


The  wood  duck  is  often  kept  in  confinement,  and  is 
a.  beautiful  pet.  There  are  many  records  of  its  having 
been  bred  in  captivity. 

While  a  great  many  wood  ducks  are  shot,  they  are 
nowhere  sufficiently  numerous  tc  make  it  worth  while 
to  gun  especially  for  them.  Those  that  are  killed  are 
taken  chiefly  by  accident,  when  they  fly  near  to  decoys 
put  out  for  other  fow^l.  Being  shot  at  all  seasons  of  the 
year  they  are  becoming  very  scarce  and  are  likely  to  be 
exterminated  before  long. 


•/•..»^,.^ — 


DIVING  DUCKS, 

SUB-FAMILY  FuHgulmCF, 

Under  this  head  are  included  what  are  commonly 
known  as  the  sea  ducks,  deep  water  ducks,  or  diving 
ducks,  birds  more  fitted  for  a  continuous  life  on  the 
water  than  those  heretofore  described,  and  which,  as  a 
rule,  derive  their  sustenance  from  water  deeper  than 
that  frequented  by  the  shoal-water  ducks. 

As  pointed  out  in  another  place,  these  birds  have 
larger  feet  than  the  shoal-water  ducks,  while  the  legs 
are  placed  further  back.  These  characters  make  pro- 
gression on  land  more  difficult,  but  assist  markedly  in 
swimming  and  diving.  All  the  birds  of  this  sub-family 
may  be  known  by  having  a  web  or  lobe  hanging  down 
from  the  hind  toe.  This  web  or  lobe  is  absent  in  all 
the  fresh-water  ducks.  The  sea  ducks  or  diving  ducks 
are  supposed  to  spend  most  of  their  time  on  the  salt 
water,  but  this  is  a  rule  to  which  there  are  a  multitude 
of  exceptions,  and  many  of  the  species  of  this  sub- 
family resort  to  inland  waters  to  rear  their  young. 
Some  birds  commonly  regarded  as  exclusively  marine 
are  found  at  all  seasons  of  the  year  on  great  bodies  of 
fresh  water,  as  the  Great  Lakes  and  Yellowstone  Lake 
in  Wyoming. 

As  stated,  most  of  the  members  of  this  sub-family 
procure  their  food  by  diving,  and  bring  up  from  the 
depths  of  water  fish,  mollusks  and  grasses  of  one  kind 

143 


144  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

and  another.  Many  of  them  are,  therefore,  not  delicate 
food,  although,  on  the  other  hand,  the  far-famed  can- 
vas-back, which  belongs  to  this  group,  is  one  of  the 
choicest  of  our  ducks. 

There  are  various  strongly  marked  anatomical  and 
other  differences  within  the  group,  which  do  not  re- 
quire consideration  here.  They  are  described  at  length 
in  various  ornithological  works. 

Mr.  Elliot  has  pointed  out  that,  as  a  rule,  the  notes  of 
these  birds  are  harsh  and  guttural. 

While  the  fresh-water  ducks  usually  spend  their  time 
in  the  marshes  and  in  fresh-water  ponds  during  the 
day,  the  sea  ducks,  as  a  rule,  resort  to  wide  stretches  of 
open  water,  where  in  moderate  weather  they  rest  dur- 
ing the  middle  of  the  day,  resorting  to  their  feeding 
grounds  at  evening,  and  sometimes  feeding  during  the 
night  and  well  into  the  morning. 


RUFOUS-CRESTED  DUCK^ 


Netta  rufina  (  Pall.  ) . 


The  adult  male  has  the  sides  of  head  and  throat  pur- 
plish-brown, darker  on  the  throat,  and  changing  to 
pale  reddish  at  the  front  and  base  of  the  crest,  becoming 
paler  toward  the  tips  of  the  feathers.  The  lower  half 
of  the  neck,  with  a  narrow  strip  running  up  the  back  of 
the  neck  to  the  head,  the  breast,  belly,  lower  tail-coverts, 
upper  tail-coverts  and  rump,  black ;  darkest  on  the  neck 
and  breast,  and  with  greenish  reflections  on  upper  tail- 
coverts.  Back,  grayish-brown,  growing  darker  toward 
the  rump.  The  scapulars,  or  shoulder  feathers,  brown- 
ish-yellow. Speculum,  white  tipped  with  gray.  The 
bend  of  the  wing,  white,  as  are  also  the  primaries,  ex- 
cept the  tips  of  some  of  the  outer  ones,  which  are  gray- 

145 


146  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ish-brown.  The  sides  and  flanks,  white,  indistinctly 
marked  with  brownish  bars.  The  tail  is  grayish- 
brown  ;  the  bill  and  feet  red.  There  is  a  full,  soft  crest 
on  the  crown  oi  the  head.  Length,  22  inches;  wing, 
10  inches. 

The  female  has  much  less  crest  than  the  male,  and  it 
is  brown.  The  rest  of  the  head  and  neck,  and  the  lower 
parts,  generally,  are  pale  ashy,  darker  on  the  breast  and 
sides.  The  upper  parts  are  grayish-brown.  Those  por- 
tions that  are  white  in  the  male  are  faintly  marked  in 
the  female,  or  do  not  show  at  all.  The  speculum  is 
white,  as  in  the  male,  but  much  duller. 

This  is  an  Old  World  species,  very  doubtfully  at- 
tributed to  North  America.  It  may  be  questioned 
whether  it  has  ever  been  seen  here  in  life  by  an  orni- 
thologist, but  specimens  have  been  found  in  the  New 
York  markets  for  sale,  with  other  ducks  which  were 
known  to  have  been  killed  near  that  city.  No  sports- 
man is  likely  to  meet  with  it,  but  it  is  introduced  here  to 
complete  the  list  of  North  American  ducks. 


■■■■■I!^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  


CANVAS-BACK  DUCK. 


Ay  thy  a  vallisneria  (Wils.). 


The  adult  male  has  the  top  of  the  head  and  the  feath- 
ers immediately  about  the  base  of  the  bill  and  chin, 
black;  the  rest  of  head  and  neck  are  reddish-brown, 
what  would  be  called  in  a  horse,  mahogany  bay.  The 
lower  neck,  fore-back  and  breast,  black.  The  back, 
lower  breast  and  belly,  white,  very  finely  waved  with 
black  bars ;  whence  the  name,  canvas-back.  Primaries, 
black.  The  tail,  black,  with  a  grayish  cast ;  bill,  black , 
iris,  red ;  feet,  lead  color. 

The  female  has  those  parts  which  in  the  male  are 
red,  brown  and  black,  wood-brown,  with  touches  of 
whitish  behind  the  eye,  and  on  the  fore-neck.  The 
plumage,  generally,  is  grayish-brown,  the  tips  of  the 

147 


148  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

feathers  often  being  whitish,  and  vermiculated  with 
dusky.    The  length  is  20  to  22  inches. 

Of  the  American  ducks,  the  canvas-back  is  easily 
the  most  famous.  Its  flesh  depends  for  its  flavor  en- 
tirely on  the  food  that  the  bird  eats,  and  since  for 
many  years  it  was  chiefly  killed  where  the  so-called 
wild  celery  abounds,  the  reputation  of  the  canvas-back 
was  made  by  the  individuals  that  fed  on  this  grass. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  in 
waters  where  this  plant  is  abundant  the  canvas-back  is 
any  better  than  some  of  its  fellows  of  the  duck  tribe, 
such  as  the  redhead  or  the  widgeon,  which  subsist 
largely  on  the  same  food.  But  the  fame  of  the  canvas- 
back  is  now  too  firmly  established  ever  to  be  shaken,  and 
it  will  continue  to  be  regarded,  as  it  has  so  long  been,  as 
the  king  of  our  ducks. 

The  canvas-back  is  an  American  species,  and  has  not 
even  any  close  relatives  in  the  Old  World.  In  winter  it 
ranges  south  as  far  as  Central  America,  but  confines  it- 
self to  no  portion  of  the  country,  being  equally  abund- 
ant on  both  coasts,  and  in  the  interior  as  well.  I  have 
killed  it  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  as  well  as  in  Southern 
California;  and  during  the  migrations  it  is  abundant  in 
Montana,  and  generally  throughout  the  interior. 

Years  ago  the  canvas-back  bred  in  the  Northern 
United  States,  toward  the  west,  probably  in  Minnesota, 
certainly  in  Dakota  and  Montana,  but,  as  with  so  many 
other  species,  the  settling  up  of  the  northern  country 
has  destroyed  its  breeding  grounds,  and  it  now,  for  the 
most  part,  passes  far  to  the  northward  to  breed.     Dr. 


CANVAS-BACK   DUCK.  149 

Dall  found  it  breeding  at  Fort  Yukon,  in  Alaska.  Mr. 
Ross  met  with  it  on  Great  Slave  Lake ;  and  other  north- 
ern observers  have  detected  it  throughout  the  fur  coun- 
tries. Besides  this,  Captain  Bendire  found  it  breeding 
in  Oregon,  and  Dr.  Newberry  believed  that  he  had  ob- 
tained evidence  of  its  nesting  in  the  Cascade  range. 
The  nest  of  the  canvas-back  is  large  and  well  built,  and 
is  lined  with  down  and  feathers,  plucked  from  the 
breast  of  the  mother  bird.  The  eggs  are  grayish-green 
in  color  and  number  from  seven  to  nine. 

On  their  return  from  the  North  the  canvas-backs 
reach  the  United  States  late  in  October  or  early  in  No- 
vember. They  are  hardy  birds,  and  it  seems  that  it 
takes  cold  weather  to  drive  them  southward.  On  the 
New  England  coast  they  are  very  rare,  though  a  few 
used  to  be  killed  there.  On  Long  Island  they  scarcely 
ever  occur  of  late  years,  nor  are  they  found  in  great 
numbers  on  the  Virginia  coast.  In  North  Carolina,  how- 
ever, and  along  the  open  broad  waters  which  fringe 
that  State  and  South  Carolina,  canvas-backs  are  very 
abundant.  They  used  to  be  so,  also,  in  the  Chesapeake 
Bay,  but  continual  gunning  and  the  destruction  of 
their  feeding  grounds  by  frequent  floods,  which  kill 
the  plants  on  which  they  subsist,  have  made  them  there 
much  less  abundant  than  they  used  to  be.  The  shoot- 
ing grounds  in  Chesapeake  Bay  and  Susquehanna  Flats, 
which  a  few  years  ago  afiforded  such  good  gimning  that 
they  were  bought  or  rented  at  fabulous  prices,  are  no 
longer  so  much  frequented  by  the  birds,  and  have  be- 
come much  less  valuable. 


150  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Like  many  others  of  our  game  birds,  the  canvas-back 
during  the  last  few  years  has  learned  a  good  deal.  Al- 
ways a  shy  and  wary  bird  and  difficult  of  approach,  it 
has  learned  to  avoid  the  shores,  and  perhaps  is  grad- 
ually learning  to  avoid  the  bush-blind.  As  its  diving 
powers  are  great  and  it  is  not  obliged  to  fly  over  the 
land  to  get  to  its  feeding  grounds,  it  spends  its  time  in 
great  rafts,  on  the  shallow  open  waters  of  such  sounds 
as  Currituck,  Pamlico,  Core  and  Albemarle,  feeding 
safe  from  danger,  and  during  the  morning  and  evening 
hours  taking  its  exercise  by  flying  great  distances  up 
and  down  the  sounds,  high  in  air,  far  above  the  reach  of 
any  gun.  It  is  only  in  dull  and  rainy  weather,  when 
the  wind  blows  hard,  that  the  canvas-backs  come  m 
from  the  open  water  to  seek  the  shelter  of  a  lee  of  the 
marsh,  but  when  such  weather  comes  and  the  gunner  is 
properly  located,  the  canvas-backs  will  come  to  his  de- 
coys as  readily  as  any  other  ducks.  In  the  same  way, 
when — as  happens  usually  at  least  once  each  year — a 
cold  snap  closes  the  waters  of  the  sound,  leaving  only  a 
few  air  lioles,  where  warm  springs  or  swiftly  moving 
currents  keep  the  waters  open,  the  canvas-back  and 
other  fowl  resorting  to  these  open  spots  may  be  killed 
in  great  numbers.  On  such  an  occasion,  in  January, 
1900,  I  saw  canvas-backs  in  numbers  greater  than  I 
ever  beheld  before.  An  account  of  this  flight,  pub- 
lished in  Forest  and  Stream,  is  as  follows  : 

^'I  have  recently  had  an  opportunity  of  being  brought 
into  what  I  may  call  close  association  with  the  greatest 
of  all  the  wildfowl,  the  §uperb  canvas-back  duck,  and 


CANVAS-BACK   DUCK.  15I 

within  the  last  ten  days  have  seen  more  of  these  birds 
and  at  closer  quarters  than  during  any  season  for  many 
years.  The  locality  was  Currituck  Sound,  and  the 
sights  that  I  saw  were  witnessed  by  several  others,  old 
gunners,  who  agree  with  me  that  so  great  a  flight  of 
canvas-backs  has  not  been  witnessed  for  many  years. 

"The  first  few  days  of  shooting  had  about  it  nothing 
very  startling  except  that  one-half  the  bag  of  ducks 
consisted  of  canvas-backs.  The  first  day  was  cold,  gray 
and  lowering,  with  a  keen  breeze  from  the  northwest, 
and  occasional  spatters  of  rain,  changing  later  to  snow, 
which  in  the  afternoon  fell  heavily.  It  was  an  ideal 
gunning  day,  and  the  birds  came  to  the  decoys  in  beau- 
tiful style,  so  that  the  first  seven  or  eight  canvas-backs 
were  killed  without  a  single  miss,  and  for  a  brief  and 
happy  hour  I  was  deluded  into  the  belief  that  at  last 
I  had  learned  how  to  shoot  ducks.  The  rude  awaken- 
ing from  this  cheerful  dream  came  soon  afterward,  and 
was  thorough.  I  do  not  imagine  that  I  shall  ever  again 
be  deceived  in  this  way. 

'The  second  day's  shooting  was  not  markedly  differ- 
ent from  that  of  the  day  before,  except  so  far  as  the 
weather  was  less  favorable,  and  so  the  number  of  can- 
vas-backs secured  was  very  much  less.  Saturday  was  a 
lay  day,  on  which  there  is  no  shooting,  and  when  we 
arose  we  found  that  the  continued  cold  weather  had  at 
last  had  its  effect  and  the  sound  was  frozen  over.  There 
were  many  large  air  holes,  however,  crowded  with 
birds,  but  the  cold  continued.  The  next  morning  many 
of  these  air  holes  had  frozen,  others  had  grown  smaller 


152  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

and  the  natural  result  was  that  the  ducks,  geese,  swans 
and  blue-peters  which  occupied  the  open  water  seemed 
crowded  together  as  thickly  as  possible.  Much  of  the 
day  was  spent  on  top  of  the  club  house,  studying  the 
waters  with  the  glass,  watching  the  movements  of  the 
birds,  marveling  at  their  inconceivable  numbers.  All 
around  the  horizon,  except  on  the  landward  side — that 
is  to  say,  for  270  degrees  of  the  circle — ^birds  were  seen 
in  countless  numbers.  Turning  the  glasses  slowly 
along  the  horizon  from  northwest  to  north,  east,  south 
and  southwest,  there  was  no  moment  at  which  clouds  of 
flying  fowl  could  not  be  seen  in  the  field  of  sight,  and 
yet,  notwithstanding  the  numbers  of  birds  seen  on  the 
wing,  the  air  holes  seemed  to  be  packed  with  fowl,  and 
great  bunches  of  geese  and  swans  stood  and  walked 
about  on  the  ice. 

"Away  to  the  north  were  three  large  air  holes,  two  of 
which  were  white  with  canvas-backs,  while  in  the  third 
one,  geese  were  the  prominent  fowl,  although  many 
canvas-backs  were  constantly  leaving  and  coming  to  it. 
Off  to  the  southeast,  at  the  south  mouth  of  the  Little 
Narrows,  was  quite  an  extent  of  open  water  occupied 
by  a  horde  of  geese,  two  large  bunches  of  blue-peters 
and  some  thousands  of  common  ducks.  In  the  Little 
Narrows,  a  deep  but  narrow  channel  flowing  close  by 
the  house,  were  great  numbers  of  ducks  feeding,  and  in- 
deed on  that  Sunday  one  might  have  sat  on  the  boat- 
house  dock  and  killed  from  thirty  to  fifty  birds  as  they 
traded  up  and  down  the  Narrows. 

"In  the  afternoon  three  or  four  of  us  walked  down  to 


CANVAS-BACK   DUCK.  153 

Sheep  Island  Point,  not  ten  minutes'  distance  from  the 
house,  where  there  was  an  air  hole.  In  this  at  the 
moment  of  our  arrival  swam  fifty  or  sixty  ducks — 
hooded  mergansers,  ruddies,  mallards,  whistlers,  butter- 
balls  and  perhaps  a  dozen  canvas-backs.  Three  or  four 
hundred  yards  to  the  north  was  another  small  air  hole, 
perhaps  four  or  five  acres  in  extent,  which  was  crowded 
with  canvas-backs.  We  sat  down  in  the  fringe  of  sedge 
about  60  or  70  yards  from  the  nearest  air  hole,  which 
had  a  length  of  perhaps  150  feet  and  a  breadth  of  100. 
The  live  birds  in  this  air  hole  would  make  good  decoys, 
and  we  hoped  that  if  the  fowl  began  to  fly  some  of  them 
would  alight  near  us.  Two  of  the  four  men  were  pro- 
vided with  good  field  glasses. 

"We  had  not  been  waiting  many  minutes,  when  what 
we  had  hoped  for  took  place.  A  bunch  of  200  birds  rose 
from  the  further  air  hole,  and  after  swinging  about  a 
few  times,  dropped  down  in  the  one  close  to  us.  These 
were  immediately  followed  by  other  bunches,  and  these 
by  others;  so  that  often  two  or  three  flocks  would  be 
swinging  about  in  the  air  at  one  time,  and  all  of  them 
with  our  air  hole  as  their  objective  point.  They  de- 
scended into  it  by  companies  of  fifties,  hundreds  and 
two  hundreds,  and  before  long  the  open  water  was  so 
crowded  with  the  fowl  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  could  hold 
no  more,  and  as  if  the  birds  that  came  next  must  neces- 
sarily alight  on  the  backs  of  their  comrades. 

*'Soon  after  the  birds  alighted  they  began  to  dive  for 
food,  and,  probably  one-half  of  them  being  under  water 
at  any  one  moment,  room  was  made  for  other  incom- 


154  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ing  birds  to  occupy.  The  splashing  of  the  diving  ducks 
made  the  water  bubble  and  boil,  and  the  play  of  the 
birds  as  they  sometimes  chased  each  other  made  the 
scene  one  of  the  greatest  possible  animation.  Presently 
something  occurred  to  attract  their  attention,  and  all 
stretched  their  necks  up  into  the  air  and  looked.  I 
think  I  have  never  seen  anything  in  the  way  of  feath- 
ered animal  life  more  impressive  than  this  forest  of 
thick  necks,  crowned  by  long,  shapely  heads  of  rich 
brown.  After  their  curiosity  was  satisfied  they  began 
again  to  feed  and  to  play.  It  is  impossible  to  convey  to 
one  who  has  not  witnessed  such  a  sight  its  interest  and 
fascination.  Here  within  gunshot — and  when  seen 
through  the  glasses  appearing  within  arm's  length — 
were  twelve  or  fifteen  hundred  of  the  most  desirable 
duck  that  flies,  entirely  at  home  and  living  for  the 
benefit  of  the  observers  their  ordinary  winter  lives. 

"Looking  with  the  glasses  over  the  smooth  ice  away 
to  the  northward,  we  could  see  flying  over  the  ice,  or 
resting  on  it,  fowl  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  From 
the  level  of  the  ice  where  we  sat,  the  ducks,  resting  on 
the  water,  appeared  only  as  indistinct  lines.  The  geese 
were,  of  course,  larger  and  darker,  and  made  distinct 
black  lines ;  while  some  very  distant  swans,  resting  on 
the  ice,  were  m.agnified  by  the  illusive  effects  of  the  mi- 
rage, so  that  they  looked  like  detached  white  houses. 
While  we  sat  watching  the  canvas-backs,  two  or  three 
small  flocks  of  geese  swung  around  over  the  air  hole, 
but  finding  no  spot  where  they  might  moisten  the  soles 
of  their  feet,  they  alighted  on  the  ice  just  beyond  it. 


CANVAS-BACK   DUCK.  155 

"We  sat  and  watched  the  fowl  until  the  increasing 
chill  of  the  air  and  the  sinking  sun  warned  us  to  return 
to  the  house.  As  we  arose  without  any  precautions  the 
canvas-backs  at  once  became  alert,  and  as  we  pushed 
our  way  among  the  reeds  away  from  the  shore  the 
whole  mass  rose  with  a  mighty  roar  of  wings  and  a 
splashing  of  water  that  made  one  think  more  of  the 
noise  of  Broadway  when  traffic  is  heaviest  than  any- 
thing else  that  I  can  recall. 

'That  night  it  w^as  again  cold,  and  in  the  morning  the 
Little  Narrows  was  closed  by  ice,  except  for  a  few  air 
holes,  and  the  open  water  in  the  sound  was  still  less. 
The  ice  was  not  yet  sufficiently  strong  to  bear  a  man, 
and  yet  it  was  too  heavy  to  be  broken  through  by  a  boat. 
Numbers  of  the  shore  gunners  endeavored  to  get  out  to 
the  air  holes  to  shoot  there,  but  none,  I  think,  suc- 
ceeded. Those  of  us  at  the  house  shot  at  various  nearby 
points,  with  moderate  success,  one  man  making  the 
great  score  of  sixty-six  canvas-backs,  besides  some 
other  ducks. 

"That  night  after  dinner  one  of  the  party  stepped  out 
on  the  porch  of  the  house  to  look  at  the  weather.  The 
night  was  clear  and  cold,  brilliant  stars  twinkled  in  the 
sky ;  through  the  branches  of  the  trees  over  the  boat- . 
house  corner,  and  reflected  in  the  placid  waters  of  an 
air  hole  in  the  Narrows,  shone  the  crescent  of  the  young 
moon,  embracing  between  its  horns  the  dull  globe  which 
was  yet  to  grow.  The  scene  was  odd  and  beautiful,  like 
a  staee  effect  of  some  mediaeval  scene.  As  he  stood 
there,  delighting  in  the  beauty  of  the  night,  yet  nipped 


156  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

a  little  by  the  keen  frost,  a  curious  sound — like  that 
made  by  a  river  running  over  the  pebbles  of  a  shallow — 
came  to  his  ear.  It  recalled  to  the  veteran  salmon 
angler  the  murmur  of  the  Restigouche  as  through  forest 
and  open  and  deep  pool  and  murmuring  shoal  it  hurries 
on  its  way  to  the  Bay  of  Chaleurs.  He  wondered  what 
could  cause  this  sound  in  this  place,  and  above  all  on 
such  a  night,  and,  walking  down  to  the  boat  house, 
passed  through  it  and  stood  on  the  dock.  Here  the  ex- 
planation of  the  sound  was  plain.  The  air  holes  which 
during  the  day  had  enlarged  were  crowded  with  feeding 
canvas-backs,  and  the  murmur  of  the  water  was  neither 
more  nor  less  than  the  splashing  made  by  the  fowl  as 
they  dived  for  food. 

''The  freeze  lasted  for  some  days  longer.  The  birds 
were  abundant;  but  the  weather,  clear,  windless  and 
toward  the  last  warm,  was  much  against  the  gunning, 
since  the  fowl  did  not  fly.  Nevertheless  one  or  two  men 
at  different  times  had  good  shooting — some  of  them 
better  than  they  had  ever  enjoyed  before  or  expect  ever 
to  have  again.  This  shooting  was  largely  at  canvas- 
backs,  since  very  few  common  ducks  were  shot.  The 
freeze  having  closed  their  feeding  grounds,  they  sat 
about  on  the  ice,  unwary  and  inert,  waiting  till  the 
waters  should  open  again,  and  in  the  meantime  starv- 
ing. Under  such  circumstances  no  one  cared  to  kill 
them.  On  the  other  hand,  the  canvas-backs  taken  were 
unusually  heavy  and  fine  birds. 

"Across  the  sound,  on  the  waters  of  a  neighboring 
club,  very  great  shooting  was  enjoyed,  though  they  se- 


CANVAS-BACK   DUCK.  1 57 

cured  practically  no  canvas-backs.  On  the  other  hand, 
they  made  enormous  bags  of  geese  and  swans,  some- 
thing which  no  one  can  regret,  since  the  geese  and  the 
swans  at  Currituck  Sound  are  so  numerous  that  they 
eat  up  vast  quantities  of  the  food  which  might  better  be 
consumed  by  the  ducks.  There  are  men  long  familiar 
with  these  waters  who  declare  tkat  the  geese  and  the 
swans  are  constantly  becoming  more  and  more  abund- 
ant and  that  ultimately  they  will  occupy  these  waters 
to  the  exclusion  of  more  desirable  fowl.  This,  however, 
is  not  likely  to  occur  in  our  time,  and  the  prophecy  may 
be  classed  with  another,  made  twenty  years  ago  by  one 
of  the  most  eminent  ornithologists  of  this  country,  wdio 
declared  that  fifteen  years  from  that  time  the  blue-peter 
would  be  the  game  bird  of  Currituck  Sound.  The  years 
have  come  and  the  years  have  gone,  but  there  are  still 
a  few  canvas-backs  left,  and  it  is  possible  that  when  our 
children  tie  out  in  Currituck  Sound  in  just  the  right 
weather  they,  too,  may  kill  a  few  of  these  glorious 
birds." 

The  food  of  the  canvas-back,  from  which  it  takes  its 
specific  name,  and  to  which  it  owes  its  delicious  flavor, 
is  the  so-called  wild  celery,  which  is  really  a  water  grass. 
It  grows  both  in  fresh  and  brackish  water,  and  is 
common  at  various  points  along  the  sea-coast,  and  also 
in  the  fresh  waters  of  the  interior. 

This  plant,  like  many  others,  has  a  variety  of  com- 
mon names.  Some  of  the  most  familiar  in  different 
localities  are  "tape  grass,"  from  the  tape-like  appear- 
ance of  the  long  leaves;  "channel  weed,"  as  it  fre- 


158  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

quently  grows  in  channels  where  the  water  flows,  not 
swiftly;  "eel  grass" — this  name  arises,  it  is  said,  by  Dr. 
Darlington,  from  the  habit  which  eels  have  of  hiding 
under  the  leaves,  which  are  usually  procumbently  float- 
ing under  the  water's  surface.  The  appellation  'Svild 
celery,"  a  local  term  applied  originally  perhaps  only  by 
gunners  and  watermen  at  Havre  de  Grace  and  vicinity, 
is,  like  many  vulgar  synonyms,  a  misnomer,  as  this 
plant  is  in  no  particular  related  to  celery,  which  by 
botanists  is  known  as  Aphim.  Wild  celery,  or,  as  it  is 
more  generally  known  along  the  coast,  eel  grass,  is  not 
confined  to  the  Chesapeake  Bay  or  to  the  sea-coast.  It 
is  found  in  the  Brandywine  Creek,  growing  in  slow- 
running  water,  and  in  many  other  interior  waters.  The 
scientific  name  of  the  plant  is  Vallisneria  spiralis 
(Linn.),  the  generic  name  being  given  in  honor  of  An- 
tonio Vallisneri,  an  Italian  botanist.  It  is  a  dioecious 
herbaceous  plant  remarkable  on  account  of  its  mode  of 
fertilization.  It  grows  entirely  under  water,  has  long 
radical  grass-like  leaves  from  one  to  three  feet  long 
and  from  one-quarter  to  three-quarters  of  an  inch  wide. 
The  female  flower  floats  at  the  surface  at  the  end  of 
long  thread-like  spiral  scapes,  which  curiously  contract 
and  lengthen  with  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  water.  The 
male  flower  has  very  short  stems  or  scapes,  from  which 
the  flowers  break  off  and  rise  to  the  surface  to  fertilize 
the  pollen  of  the  attached  floating  female  flowers. 

The  canvas-back  is  one  of  the  swiftest  of  all  our 
ducks.  It  is  commonly  said  that  they  fly  at  the  rate  of 
ninety  miles  an  hour,  but,  of  course,  this  is  a  mere 


CANVAS-BACK   DUCK.  1 59 

guess,  since  no  accurate  observations  have  ever  been 
made  on  their  flight.  It  is  certain  that  they  proceed  at 
great  speed,  and  the  novice  at  canvas-back  shooting  is 
very  sure  to  shoot  behind  them  until  he  has  had  a  great 
deal  of  practice. 

The  canvas-backs  start  from  their  southern  home  to- 
ward the  north  early  in  March  and  follow  the  coast  and 
the  interior  northward,  often  reaching  northern  waters 
before  they  are  generally  open.  On  the  breeding 
grounds  they  are  practically  undisturbed. 


-:?*:;^CSf^?<l 


REDHEAD  DUCK. 


Ay  thy  a  americana  (Eyt.). 

In  general  aspect  like  the  canvas-back,  for  which  it 
is  often  mistaken.  The  adult  male  has  the  feathers  of 
the  head  full  and  puffy.  The  head  and  neck  are  bright 
reddish-chestnut,  often  glossy  with  coppery  reflections ; 
the  upper  part  of  back,  lower  neck,  breast  and  rump, 
and  upper  and  under  tail-coverts,  black.  The  back, 
shoulder  feathers  of  the  wing,  sides  and  flanks,  whitish, 
cross-marked  with  black  lines,  slightly  wider  than  in 
the  canvas-back,  thus  giving  the  whole  plumage  a 
darker  tone.  The  speculum  is  pale  bluish-gray,  bor- 
dered with  black  above  and  tipped  with  white.  The 
primaries  are  dusky,  some  of  the  inner  quills  being  dark 

160 


REDHEAD  DUCK.  1 6 1 

slaty-gray.  The  tail  is  dusky.  The  bill  is  pale  blue, 
black  at  the  tip,  the  eyes  yellow,  and  the  feet  are  bluish - 
gray.     The  abdomen  is  white. 

The  female  is  a  plain  brownish  duck,  almost  white  on 
the  forehead,  chin  and  sides  of  the  head.  The  lower 
neck,  sides  and  flanks  are  brown,  as  are  the  lower  parts 
generally,  but  the  lower  tail-coverts  are  white.  The 
speculum  is  as  in  the  male. 

Like  the  canvas-back,  the  redhead  is  a  bird  of  gen- 
eral distribution  through  North  America.  It  is  very 
common  in  migration  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  as  well  as 
in  the  interior  and  on  the  Pacific  coast.  Mr.  Ridgway 
found  it  common  and  evidently  breeding  at  Sacra- 
mento, CaL,  in  June,  1867,  as  well  as  in  Nevada,  where 
he  saw  beautiful  decoys  made  of  its  skin  by  the  Piute 
Indians.  It  is  said  not  to  reach  Alaska  in  summer,  but 
is  found  breeding  throughout  the  Hudson's  Bay  coun- 
try, east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Formerly  it  bred  in 
great  numbers  in  the  United  States,  in  Michigan,  Wis- 
consin, Minnesota,  Dakota,  Montana  and  Wyoming, 
but  the  continual  persecution  to  which  the  redhead, 
with  our  other  ducks,  is  subjected  in  spring  has  driven 
it  from  many  of  these  ancient  breeding  grounds.  There 
are  some  localities,  however,  in  the  Middle  West  occu- 
pied by  gunning  clubs  where  spring  shooting  is  not  al- 
lowed, and  here  the  redhead  and  some  other  varieties 
of  ducks  stop  and  breed,  with  the  result  that  in  the 
autumn  the  club  members  have  shooting  far  better  than 
they  ever  did  when  spring  shooting  prevailed.  Birds 
that  have  been  bred  on  the  grounds  are  gentle  and 


l62  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

wonted,  and  act  as  decoys  to  their  relatives  migrating 
from  the  North,  calHng  them  down  and  giving  them 
confidence  that  here,  at  least,  is  a  place  where  they 
may  be  free  from  persecution. 

In  winter  the  redhead  is  found  as  far  south  as  Mex- 
ico and  Southern  Texas,  but  is  more  common  further  to 
ihe  northward,  and,  indeed,  goes  but  little  south  of  the 
region  where  open  water  is  found.  It  is  abundant  dur- 
ing the  migrations  on  Long  Island,  but  is  not  common 
on  the  New  England  coast.  Each  autumn  and  winter, 
however,  redheads  are  shot  in  great  numbers  on  Great 
South  Bay,  but  rarely  or  not  at  all  on  Long  Island 
Sound.  On  the  eastern  shore  of  Virginia,  in  Chesa- 
peake Bay,  and  on  the  sounds  along  the  coasts  of  North 
and  South  Carolina  the  redhead  is  very  abundant,  and 
it  spends  the  winter  in  great  numbers  in  these  waters, 
leaving  them  only  when,  as  usually  happens  once  or 
twice  each  winter,  it  is  driven  further  south  by  the  oc- 
currence of  cold  weather,  which  freezes  the  sounds.  In 
such  places,  in  all  sorts  of  weather,  they  may  be  seen, 
high  in  air,  trading,  as  it  is  termed ;  that  is  to  say,  flying 
long  distances  far  above  the  water,  as  if  examining  the 
ground  before  they  determined  to  alight.  The  great 
flocks  of  birds  that  do  this  trading  are  usually  canvas- 
backs  and  redheads. 

The  redhead  is  said  by  northern  explorers  to  breed 
throughout  the  fur  countries,  and  they  have  also  been 
found  breeding  near  Calais,  Me.  The  nests  are  usu- 
ally built  close  together,  in  colonies,  generally  near  the 
water,  and  are  somewhat  more  substantial  than  ducks* 


REDHEAD  DUCK,  163 

nests  often  are.  The  eggs  are  almost  white,  and  are 
usually  ten  or  twelve  in  number. 

In  many  of  its  habits  the  redhead  resembles  the 
broad-bill  or  black-head.  It  comes  up  to  decoys  quite 
as  gently  as  that  bird,  when  it  has  once  made  up  its 
mind  to  do  so,  and  when  about  to  alight  the  birds 
crowd  close  together,  and  thus  offer  the  gunner  an  op- 
portunity to  kill  several  at  a  time.  When  only  wounded 
the  redhead  dives  and  skulks  well,  and  is  not  always 
to  be  recovered.  After  diving  and  swimming  a  long 
way  under  water  it  comes  to  the  surface,  and  perhaps 
shows  only  a  portion  of  the  bill,  swimming  off  so  low 
against  the  wind  that  it  is  not  likely  to  be  detected. 

The  flesh  of  the  redhead  is  excellent,  and  when  it 
has  been  feeding  on  the  same  food,  it  cannot  be  dis- 
tinguished from  that  of  the  canvas-back. 

The  redhead  is  a  near  relative  of  the  European 
pochard,  which  it  closely  resembles,  though  easily  dis- 
tinguished on  comparison. 

This  species  is  sometimes  called  the  red-headed 
broad-bill,  red-headed  raft  duck,  and,  oddly  enough, 
Washington  canvas-back. 


^|||i9l|i|i|lieB 


BROAD-BILL. 


Aythya  marila  nearctica  Stejn. 

'  The  adult  male  has  the  head,  neck  and  fore  part  of 
breast  and  of  back,  black ;  the  feathers  of  the  head  and 
neck  with  a  greenish  gloss;  rump,  primaries  and  tail, 
brownish-black;  the  speculum,  or  wing  mark,  white; 
middle  of  back  and  sides,  white,  cross-lined  with  black 
and  white.  The  under  surface  of  the  body  is  white, 
marked  on  the  lower  belly  with  narrow  blackish  cross- 
lines  and  black  beneath  the  tail.  The  bill  is  broad,  pale 
bluish-lead  color,  with  a  black  nail;  the  eyes  yellow; 
the  legs  and  feet  gray;  the  length,  1 8  to  20  inches. 

The    female   has   the   front   of   head,   immediatel}' 
around  the  base  of  the  bill,  white.    Those  parts  which 

164 


BROAD-BILL.  165 

in  the  male  are  black  are  in  the  female  brown.  The 
back  is  much  darker,  faintly  marked  with  zig-zag  white 
lines.     The  bill  is  darker. 

Many  widely  different  opinions  are  expressed  as  to 
the  value  of  the  broad-bill  as  food,  and  those  who  de- 
bate this  question  are  both  right  and  both  wrong.  In 
other  words,  the  flesh  of  the  broad-bill,  as  of  most 
other  ducks,  is  sometimes  good  and  sometimes  bad,  de- 
pending on  the  food  which  it  eats.  Along  the  New 
England  coast,  where,  to  a  great  extent  it  feeds  on  shell- 
fish and  other  animal  matter,  the  broad-bill  is  not  a  deli- 
cate bird,  but  further  south,  where  its  food  is  largely 
vegetable,  and  where  its  name  is  changed  to  black-head 
and  blue-bill,  it  is  a  most  excellent  fowl.  In  the  in- 
terior, too,  it  lives  chiefly  on  vegetable  matter.  There 
it  is  known  as  the  scaup  duck,  blue-bill,  raft  duck,  big 
fowl  duck,  and  is  eagerly  sought  after.  However, 
the  tendency  of  this  bird  appears  to  be  toward  the  sea- 
coast.  It  is  abundant  in  California,  where  many  are 
killed,  but  it  does  not  seem  to  go  as  far  south  as  its 
relative,  the  little  black-head,  and  winters  on  the  New 
England  and  New  York  coasts  and  in  New  Jersey,  be- 
ing, in  my  experience,  rather  rare  as  far  south  as  Vir- 
ginia and  North  Carolina,  where  the  little  black-head 
is  very  abundant. 

The  broad-bill  is  a  species  of  wide  range,  being 
found  throughout  North  America,  as  far  south  as  Cen- 
tral America,  and  also  in  northern  portions  of  Europe 
and  Asia.  It  formerly  bred  in  some  numbers  on  the 
northern  prairies,  and  I  have  found  its  nests  in  North 


1 66  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Dakota  and  Montana,  though  some  of  these  may  have 
been  those  of  the  next  species.  Dr.  Dall  found  it  breed- 
ing in  Alaska,  and  it  is  supposed  to  breed  generally 
through  northern  North  America,  in  the  British  pos- 
sessions. 

The  nest  of  the  broad-bill  is  usually  placed  close  to 
the  water;  it  is  little  more  than  a  depression  in  the 
ground,  among  the  grass,  lined  perhaps  with  a  few 
spears  of  bright  grass,  and  with  down  from  the  bird's 
breast.  The  number  of  eggs  is  six  or  eight ;  they  are 
grayish-white  in  color,  and  when  the  mother  leaves 
them  are  usually  covered  by  the  down. 

The  broad-bill  is  abundant  in  Long  Island  Sound 
and  on  the  Great  South  Bay,  where  it  is  shot  in  great 
numbers  from  batteries.  It  reaches  our  coasts  late  in 
October,  and  is  usually  found  associated  together  in 
considerable  bodies,  which,  however,  are  likely  to  break 
up  into  small  flocks  in  rough  and  stormy  weather. 


LITTLE  BLACK-HEAD. 


Aythya  affinis  (Eyt.). 


Exactly  similar  in  color  to  the  broad-bill,  but  smaller. 
The  gloss  on  the  neck  is  likely  to  be  bluish  or  purplish, 
instead  of  greenish.  The  length  of  this  species  is 
about  1 6  inches,  as  against  1 8  or  20  in  the  preceding. 

These  two  species  were  long  regarded  as  the  same, 
and,  indeed,  as  yet  there  seems  to  be  no  definite  char- 
acter to  separate  them,  except  that  of  size.  On  the 
New  England  coast,  during  the  migrations,  the  two 
are  often  found  associated  together,  and  this  is  true  to 
a  less  extent  further  to  the  southward.  At  the  same 
time  the  difference  between  them  is  well  recognized  by 
ornithologists  and  by  gunners  generally,  and  is  ex- 
pressed in  the  common  names  applied  to  this  species, 

167 


l68  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

which  Mr.  Trumbull  and  others  give.  Some  of  these 
are  little  broad-bill,  little  black-head,  little  blue-bill, 
river  broad-bill,  creek  black-head,  river  blue-bill,  marsh 
blue-bill,  mud  blue-bill,  mud  broad-bill  and  fresh-water 
broad-bill. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  most  of  the  little  black- 
heads are  readily  to  be  identified  by  their  size,  there  is 
considerable  variation  in  the  species  and  sometimes 
these  birds  almost  equal  the  broad-bill  in  their  meas- 
urements. It  is  stated  that  the  adult  males  can  be  easily 
identified,  no  matter  what  their  measurements  may 
show,  by  the  metallic  gloss  of  the  head  feathers,  these 
being  always  green  in  the  broad-bill  and  blue  or  purple 
in  the  little  broad-bill.  This  metallic  gloss,  therefore, 
would  seem  to  be  considered  by  some  naturalists  a 
specific  character. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  abundant  birds  of  the  south- 
ern seacoast,  being  found,  in  winter,  from  New  Eng- 
land south  to  Florida,  and  even  beyond  that,  to  the 
West  Indies  and  Central  America.  It  is  found,  indeed, 
over  the  whole  of  North  America,  and,  while  breeding 
chiefly  north  of  the  United  States,  it  is  yet  found  in 
Minnesota,  Dakota  and  Montana. 

Owing  to  its  similarity  to  the  greater  broad-bill,  it  is 
not  always  easy  to  determine  just  what  the  range  of 
this  species  is.  Some  Alaska  explorers  give  it  as  breed- 
ing in  that  country,  while  others  declare  that  of  the 
many  broad-bills  seen  by  them  none  belongs  to  this  spe- 
cies. However,  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  the  nests 
have  been  found  throughout  British  America,  usually 


LITTLE   BLACK-HEAD. 


169 


placed  in  swamps  or  near  lakes,  very  simple  in  construc- 
tion and  lined  with  down. 

The  little  black-head  is  one  of  the  swiftest  fliers  and 
most  expert  divers  of  all  our  ducks,  and  the  task  of  re- 
trieving one  that  has  been  wounded,  unless  one  is  pro- 
vided with  a  good  dog,  is  not  always  an  easy  one.  This 
species  is  quite  as  much  an  adept  at  skulking  and  hid- 
ing as  its  larger  relative,  and,  on  the  wdiole,  is  very  well 
able  to  take  care  of  itself.  The  flesh  is  usually  very 
delicate,  yet  the  very  reverse  of  this  may  be  true  in  lo- 
calities where  it  has  had  an  opportunity  to  feed  largely 
on  shell-fish. 

Black-heads  seem  to  be  equally  at  home  in  shoal 
v/ater  and  in  deep ;  they  can  dive  as  well  as  the  canvas- 
back,  and  yet  they  are  quite  willing  to  puddle  about 
through  the  edge  of  the  marsh  and  to  pick  up  a  liveli- 
hood in  company  with  the  fresh-water  ducks. 


RING-NECKED  DUCK. 

Ay  thy  a  collaris  (Donov.). 

The  adult  male  has  back  of  head  and  crown  loose  and 
puffy,  at  times  showing  ahnost  as  a  crest.  The  head, 
neck,  breast,  upper  parts  and  under  tail-coverts,  black ; 
the  head  sometimes  glossed  with  purple  and  the  back 
with  greenish.  There  is  a  more  or  less  distinct  chest- 
nut or  reddish-brown  collar  around  the  middle  of  the 
neck,  and  a  white  spot  upon  the  chin.  The  speculum  is 
bluish-gray ;  sides  of  body  waved  with  white  and  black- 
ish lines.  The  under  parts  are  white.  The  bill  is  dark 
grayish  blue,  with  a  black  tip,  and  a  very  pale  (in  life 
nearly  white)  band  across  it,  near  the  tip;  the  eyes  are 
yellow. 

The  female  does  not  show  the  neck  ring  and  the  bill 

170 


RING-NECKED  DUCK,  I71 

is  less  plainly  marked.  The  black  of  the  male  changes  to 
brown  in  the  female.  The  fore  part  of  head,  all  about 
the  base  of  the  bill,  is  nearly  white.  The  lower  parts 
of  the  body  are  white,  sometimes  marked  with  brown  or 
brownish-gray,  growing  darker  toward  the  tail.  The 
length  is  16  to  18  inches. 

The  female  of  the  ring-necked  duck  is  very  similar  to 
that  of  the  redhead,  but  the  former  is  darker,  except 
about  the  bill,  where  the  pale  markings  are  much  paler, 
often  almost  wliite.  The  difference  in  the  bills  is  char- 
acteristic, that  of  the  female  ring-neck  being  much  the 
shorter  and  broader. 

The  ring-necked  duck  is  by  no  means  so  abundant  as 
many  of  our  other  species  and  is  quite  commonly  con- 
fused with  the  little  black-head,  which  it  closely  re- 
sembles in  habits.  In  fact,  as  a  rule,  gunners  do  not 
distinguish  between  the  tufted  duck  and  the  little  black- 
head, and  when  counting  up  their  score  at  the  end  of  the 
day  always  refer  to  this  species  as  a  black-head.  Its 
common  names  indicate  this  confusion.  It  is  called  ring- 
necked  scaup,  ring-necked  black-head,  marsh  blue-bill, 
bastard  broad-bill,  ring-billed  black-head,  ring-billed 
shuffler,  and  sometimes  it  is  called  creek  redhead  be- 
cause of  its  resemblance  to  that  species.  I  have  also 
heard  boatmen,  who  had  happened  to  notice  the  red  col- 
lar about  the  bird's  neck,  call  it  a  hybrid  between  a 
black-head  and  a  redhead. 

The  ring-necked  duck  is  found  sparingly  throughout 
almost  the  whole  of  North  America.  Its  chief  breeding 
grounds  are  north  of  the  United  States,  but  it  probably 


172  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

used  to  breed  also  in  suitable  localities  on  the  plains,  and 
its  nests  have  been  taken  near  Calais,  in  Maine,  as  well 
as  in  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota.  Its  nest  is  built  usu- 
ally in  thick  cover,  close  to  the  water,  and  is  a  neater 
structure  than  most  ducks'  nests.  The  eggs  are  usu- 
ally of  a  grayish  ivory  white  and  number  from  eight  to 
ten.  This  species  is  occasionally  taken  on  the  Califor- 
nia coast  and  also  on  that  of  New  England,  but  it  is  no- 
where common.  Even  in  the  South,  in  that  paradise  of 
ducks,  Currituck,  Core  and  Albemarle  sounds,  these 
birds  are  few  in  number. 

They  decoy  well  and  are  easily  killed  when  they  come 
up  to  the  stools,  although  very  swift  fliers. 

It  is  said  that  this  bird  is  more  abundant  on  our  in- 
land waters  than  on  the  sea-coast.  Even  there,  how- 
ever, it  can  never  be  called  an  abundant  species.  Its 
flesh,  under  favorable  circumstances,  is  excellent  eating, 
and  if  it  were  more  abundant  it  would  be  one  of  the 
most  desirable  of  our  fowl. 


GOLDEN-EYE,  WHISTLER.. 

Glaucionetta  clangula  americana  (  Bon ap.  ) . 

The  adult  male  has  the  head  somewhat  puffy,  but  the 
feathers  longer  on  the  back  of  the  head,  forming  more 
or  less  of  a  crest.  The  head  and  upper  part  of  the  neck 
are  dark  glossy  green,  with  purple  reflections  and  a 
roundish  and  sometimes  oval  white  spot  just  back  of  the 
bill  and  below  the  eye.  The  lower  neck,  fore-back, 
scapulars  and  wing-coverts,  with  the  secondaries  and 
most  of  the  under  parts,  pure  white;  the  back,  long 
scapulars,  and  the  base  of  the  secondaries,  black.  The 
long  feathers  of  the  wings  and  their  coverts  are  black- 
ish. The  tail  is  ashy-gray ;  the  bill  black ;  eye  yellow  ,• 
legs  and  feet  yellowish-red.  The  total  length  is  about 
20  inches. 

173 


174  DUCK   SHOOTING, 

The  female  has  the  head  and  upper  part  of  the  neck 
brown.  There  is  a  white  ring  about  the  lower  neck, 
and  the  upper  breast  is  gray.  The  back  is  blackish- 
brown.  The  white  on  the  wing  is  chiefly  confined  to 
the  secondaries.  The  under  parts  are  white ;  the  tail  is 
dark  brown;  bill  sometimes  yellowish,  but  more  often 
brownish ;  legs  and  feet  as  in  the  male. 

The  American  golden-eye  has  been  separated  by  nat- 
uralists from  the  bird  of  Europe  and  called  a  variety,  on 
no  better  ground  than  that  it  is  slightly  larger  than  the 
Old  World  form.  Naturalists  are  not  agreed  on  this 
point,  and  sportsmen  are  not  greatly  interested  in  such 
fine  distinctions. 

The  golden-eye  is  a  bird  of  wide  distribution,  breed- 
ing throughout  the  northern  parts  of  the  Northern 
Hemisphere  and  in  winter  pursuing  its  migrations  as 
far  south  as  the  Southern  United  States  and  even  be- 
yond to  Cuba.  It  is  a  bird  familiar  to  all  sportsmen, 
but  from  the  standpoint  of  the  epicure  it  is  not  highly 
regarded.  It  has  been  found  breeding  as  far  north  as 
Alaska  and  undoubtedly  is  scattered  in  summer,  in  mod- 
erate numbers,  all  over  the  British  possessions.  It 
breeds  in  Maine  and  also  in  Massachusetts,  but  probably 
not  south  of  that.  I  have  found  the  golden-eye  com- 
mon, in  summer,  in  the  high  Rocky  Mountains,  not  far 
south  of  the  parallel  of  49  degrees,  but  am  unable  to  say 
whether  it  was  this  or  the  next  species. 

The  golden-eye  is  one  of  the  few  tree-breeding  ducks, 
choosing  for  this  purpose  some  hollow  limb  or  broken- 
off  stump  in  which  to  lay  its  eggs ;  these  are  pale  gray- 


GOLDEN-EYE.  ,  1 75 

ish-green  in  color  and  are  said  to  be  from  six  to  eight. 
Concerning  the  breeding  habits  of  this  species,  the 
veteran  naturahst,  Mr.  Geo.  A.  Boardman,  said  in 
Forest  and  Stream: 

''Fifty  years  ago  we  used  to  have  six  different  tree 
ducks  breeding  on  our  river :  Barrow's  golden-eye  and 
the  buffle-head  (albeola)  rare,  but  the  common  golden- 
eye,  the  American  merganser,  hooded  merganser  and 
wood  duck  abundant.  About  fifty  years  ago  pickerel 
were  put  into  our  waters,  which  soon  put  an  end  to  most 
of  our  wild  ducks  breeding,  as  the  pickerel  ate  up  all  the 
chick  ducks  except  in  the  few  lakes  or  ponds  that  were 
free  from  pickerel.  Near  to  Calais  are  several  ponds 
and  lakes  that  are  free  from  those  fish,  and  the  tree 
ducks  bring  their  young  to  those  lakes  for  safety. 

"I  was  at  the  Kendrick  Lake,  and  a  lad  that  lived  near 
by  was  with  me.  A  duck  (whistler)  came  flying  low 
toward  us,  when  the  lad  threw  up  his  hat  with  a  shout, 
when  the  old  duck  dropped  a  young  one  that  fell  near 
us  that  was  at  least  ten  days  old.  The  old  one  went  for 
it  so  quickly  I  almost  lost  it,  but  I  got  it  and  put  it  in  my 
pocket  for  a  specimen.  We  were  near  the  lake,  and  the 
old  duck  also,  when  we  saw  she  had  four  others  in  the 
water.  The  boy  said  if  we  keep  quiet  she  will  go  away 
and  bring  others,  or  if  she  is  afraid  of  us  very  much  she 
will  take  thOvSe  across  the  lake  or  to  the  other  lake. 
They  were  getting  near  to  some  water  grass,  when  the 
old  duck  made  a  flutter,  caught  one  and  went  across  the 
lake ;  it  was  hardly  two  minutes  before  she  returned  and 
took  another. 


1^6  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

"I  don't  think  she  took  them  by  her  mouth,  and  the 
one  she  dropped,  if  it  had  been  in  her  mouth  we  should 
have  seen  it.  Mr.  Eastman,  father  of  the  lad,  said  they 
often  took  their  young  from  one  lake  or  river  to  another 
if  they  thought  them  in  danger,  and  said  he  had  seen 
them  bring  the  young  from  the  nest  to  the  water  and 
then  in  their  bills,  but,  to  go  any  distance,  or  if  they  are 
any  size,  carry  them  pressed  to  the  body  by  the  feet,  and 
the  boys  often  by  a  shout  made  them  drop  their  young. 
They  brought  me  several  different  kinds  afterward, 
wood  duck,  whistlers  and  hooded  mergansers,  but  no 
young  of  the  large  merganser," 

In  a  recent  number  of  the  Aiik  (Vol.  XVII  (N.  S.), 
p.  207,  July,  1900)  Mr.  William  Brewster  has  given  a 
most  interesting  account  of  the  nesting  habits  of  this 
species.  The  article  is  illustrated  by  admirable  photo- 
graphs. 

The  whistler,  as  it  is  frequently  called,  although  re- 
sorting to  the  fresh  waters  during  the  breeding  season, 
is  much  at  home  on  the  salt  water  in  autumn  and  winter. 
It  IS  an  expert  diver  and  feeds  largely  on  shell-fish,  and 
when  it  can  obtain  them,  on  small  minnows.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  readily  eats  grain  and  frequents  the  wild 
rice  fields  of  the  interior  and  the  fresh  marshes  of  the 
coast,  and  when  it  has  lived  on  grain  for  some  time  its 
flesh  is  very  good  eating.  The  name  whistler,  so  com- 
monly applied  to  it  along  the  sea-coast,  is  given  because 
of  the  quivering,  whistling  noise  made  by  the  wings 
while  the  bird  is  flying,  which  is  often  recognizable  long 
before  the  bird  itself  can  be  seen.     Other  names  for  this 


GOLDEN -EYE.  lyj 

species  are  golden-eye,  from  its  yellow  iris;  conjuring 
and  spirit  duck,  from  the  rapidity  with  which  it  dives ; 
brass-eye  and  brass-eyed  whistler,  whistle-wing,  merry- 
wing,  great-head,  bull-head,  iron-head,  cob-head  and 
cub-head. 

While  the  whistler  is  one  of  our  most  beautiful  ducks, 
it  is  not  highly  regarded  by  those  who  have  an  oppor- 
tunity to  kill  better  fowl,  and,  like  the  little  dipper  and 
ruddy  duck  and  the  mergansers,  it  is  often  allowed  to 
pass  over  the  decoys  without  being  shot  at.  It  is  not  a 
bird  that  decoys  readily,  and,  as  a  rule,  offers  little 
sport ;  but  at  many  points  in  New  England  and  Canada, 
where  better  ducks  are  rare,  its  pursuit  offers  some 
reward  to  the  gunners. 


BARROW'S  GOLDEN-EYE. 

Glaucionetta  islandica   (Gmel.). 

Adult  male  extremely  similar  to  the  golden-eye,  but 
larger  and  with  the  head  and  upper  neck  bluish-black, 
with  purplish  reflections  instead  of  greenish,  with  the 
spot  at  the  base  of  the  bill,  and  in  front  of  the  eye,  tri- 
angular or  crescent-shaped,  and  with  very  much  less 
white  on  the  wing,  this  usually  being  confined  to  two 
long  bars  with  a  short,  black  bar  between  them. 

The  female  is  much  as  in  the  ordinary  whistler.  The 
collar  about  her  neck  is  narrower  than  in  the  whistler ; 
the  white  on  the  wing  is  less  and  is  crossed  by  a  black 
bar.  The  grayish  on  the  breast,  sides  and  flank  is 
w^ider  in  this  species  than  in  the  whistler. 

178 


BARROW'S   GOLDEN-EYE.  I79 

Barrow's  golden-eye  is  much  less  common  than  the 
ordinary  whistler.  Like  that  species  it  is  a  northern 
bird,  but  it  appears  to  be  much  less  abundant  in  Europe 
than  even  in  this  countryo  I  have  frequently  seen, 
breeding  in  the  lakes  in  the  high  Rocky  Mountains, 
golden-eyes  which  were  probably  of  this  species,  but  I 
was  never  so  fortunate  as  to  have  any  of  them  in  the 
hand.  Like  the  whistler,  Barrow's  golden-eye  breeds 
in  trees,  laying  eight  to  ten  eggs,  grayish-green  in  color. 
Mr.  C.  W.  Shepard  found  this  duck  breeding  in  Ice- 
land, where,  in  the  absence  of  trees,  it  built  its  nest  in 
holes  in  the  cracks  and  crevices  of  the  lava.  Barrow's 
golden-eye  has  been  found  in  Alaska,  on  the  Yukon 
River,  and  at  Sitka,  and  specimens  have  been  taken  at 
other  points  in  the  north.  Mr.  Boardman  believed  that 
this  species  breeds  in  the  woods  of  Calais,  Me.,  though 
as  yet  their  nests  have  not  been  discovered.  Mr.  Nel- 
son states  that  it  is  a  winter  resident  on  Lake  Michigan, 
and  is  probably  found  generally  in  winter  through  the 
interior  wherever  there  is  open  water.  A  number  of 
specimens  have  been  taken  on  the  coast  of  Massachu- 
setts. Mr.  Elliot  has  found  it  quite  abundant  on  the  St. 
Lawrence  River,  near  Ogdensburgh,  and  has  frequently 
killed  it  there  over  decoys.  He  says :  ''The  birds  would 
fly  up  and  down  the  river,  doubtless  coming  from  and 
going  to  Lake  Erie,  stopping  occasionally  in  the  coves 
to  feed  and  floating  down  with  the  current  for  a  consid- 
erable distance,  when  they  would  rise  and  fly  up  stream 
again.  My  decoys  were  always  placed  in  some  cove  or 
bend  of  the  stream  where  the  current  was  least  strong. 


l8o  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

for  I  noticed  the  birds  rarely  settled  on  the  water  where 
it  was  running  swiftly.  This  duck  decoys  readily  in 
such  situations  and  will  come  right  in,  and,  if  permitted, 
settle  among  the  wooden  counterfeits.  They  sit  lightly 
upon  the  water  and  rise  at  once  without  effort  or  much 
splashing.  The  flight  is  very  rapid  and  is  accompanied 
with  the  same  whistling  of  the  wings  so  noticeable  in 
the  common  golden-eye.  In  stormy  weather  this  bird 
keeps  close  to  the  banks,  seeking  shelter  from  the  winds. 
It  dives  as  expertly  as  its  relative  and  frequently  re- 
mains under  water  for  a  considerable  time.  The  flesh 
of  those  killed  upon  the  river  was  tender  and  of  good 
flavor,  fish  evidently  not  having  figured  much  as  an 
article  of  their  diet.'* 


BUFFLE-HEAD  DUCK. 


Charitonetta  albeola  (Linn.). 

The  adult  male  has  the  head  and  upper  neck  black. 
From  behind  and  below  the  eye  a  very  broad  white  band 
or  patch  extends  backward  to  the  ends  of  the  feathers. 
The  black  of  head  and  upper  neck  is  brilliant  with 
metallic  reflections  of  green  and  purple.  The  feathers 
of  head  are  long  and  loose,  giving  it  a  puffy  appearance, 
and  they  can  be  raised  so  as  to  make  the  head  seem  very 
large.  The  back  is  black,  fading  to  ashy  on  the  upper 
tail-coverts.  The  tail  is  gray,  with  whitish  edges.  The 
lower  neck,  entire  under  parts,  greater  wing-coverts, 
outer  scapulars  and  some  secondaries,  white.  The  quill 
feathers  of  the  wing  are  gray,  the  bill  is  lead  color,  the 
eyes  brown  and  the  feet  flesh  color  or  lavender, 

181 


l82  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

The  head  of  the  female  lacks  the  extreme  puffiness  of 
the  male's.  She  is  generally  a  dark  lead  color,  or  slaty, 
very  much  paler  below,  has  a  white  patch  on  the  side  of 
the  head  behind  and  below  the  eye,  and  a  white  wing 
patch  formed  by  the  outer  webs  of  the  secondaries.  The 
bill  is  dark  lead  color  and  the  feet  and  legs  grayish-blue. 

The  male  buffle-head  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
active  of  North  American  ducks  and  is  also  one  of  the 
most  abundant,  especially  along  the  sea-coast.  It  is 
confined  to  North  America  and  is  scattered  over  most  of 
the  continent,  from  the  extreme  North  to  Mexico.  It  is 
said  no':  to  be  common  in  Alaska,  but  sometimes  to  oc- 
cur on  the  Aleutian  Islands,  and  Dr.  Stejneger  found  it 
in  winter  also  about  the  Commander  Islands,  on  the 
Asiatic  side  of  the  Pacific.  The  buffle-head  breeds 
throughout  much  of  British  America,  nesting  in  hol- 
lows in  trees,  and  its  nests  have  been  found  on  the 
Yukon  River,  as  well  as  in  many  other  localities  in  the 
North.  Mr.  Boardman  believes  that  it  breeds  near 
Calais,  Me.,  and  young  birds,  still  unable  to  fly,  are  said 
to  have  been  killed  at  Pewaukee  Lake,  in  Wisconsin. 

The  butter-ball  is  an  extremely  restless  and  busy 
bird,  and  in  the  dull  times  of  the  duck  shooting,  when 
the  weather  is  still  and  no  birds  are  flying,  it  is  very 
likely  to  dart  over  the  gunner's  decoys  and  startle  him 
by  its  unexpected  presence.  However,  the  butter-ball 
is  so  small,  and  also  so  swift  of  flight,  and  so  expert  in 
diving,  that  not  very  many  of  them  are  killed.  They 
are  by  no  means  shy  and  often  come  readily  to  the  de- 
coys, among  which  they  alight,  feed,  and  after  swim- 


BUFFLE-HEAD   DUCK,  1 8 


o 


mmg  about  for  a  short  time  will  fly  off  again.  The 
dipper  flies  very  rapidly,  quite  equaling  in  this  respect 
the  black-head,  which  is  known  for  its  speed  on  the 
wing.  Usually  it  alights  without  checking  itself  at  all 
and  strikes  the  water  with  a  splash,  sliding  along  the 
surface  for  some  little  distance.  Mr.  Elliot's  remarks 
on  the  diving  of  this  species  are  well  worth  repeating. 
He  says :  "As  a  diver  the  butter-ball  takes  rank  among 
the  most  expert  of  our  ducks,  disappearing  so  quickly, 
and  apparently  with  so  little  exertion,  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  shoot  it  when  sitting  on  the  water.  When 
alarmed,  with  a  sudden  flip  up  of  its  tail  and  a  scatter- 
ing of  a  few  drops  of  water,  it  vanishes  beneath  the  sur- 
face, appearing  almost  immediately  at  no  great  distance 
from  where  it  went  under,  and  either  dives  again  at 
once  or  takes  wing,  which  it  does  easily  and  without 
any  fuss.  Sometimes  half  a  dozen  of  these  birds  will 
gather  together  in  a  sheltered  piece  of  water  and  be 
very  busy  feeding.  A  few  will  dive  with  a  sudden  jerk, 
as  if  drawn  beneath  the  surface  by  an  invisible  string, 
and  the  others  will  quietly  swim  about  as  if  on  the 
watch.  The  first  that  went  under  water  having  re- 
turned to  the  surface,  the  others  dive,  and  so  it  goes  on 
for  a  long  time.  Occasionally  all  will  disappear,  and  » 
then  the  first  one  to  rise  seems  much  disconcerted  at  not 
finding  any  one  on  watch  and  acts  as  if  he  were  saying 
to  himself  that  if  he  'had  only  known  their  unprotected 
state,  he  would  never  have  gone  under.'  " 

Mr.  Elliot  states  also  that  the  flesh  of  this  duck  is  very 
palatable  and  is  excellent  when  broiled.    In  this  species, 


1 84 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


as  in  others,  the  food  regulates  the  excellence  of  the 
flesh. 

Mr.  Gurdon  Trumbull  gives  among  the  names  for 
this  very  well-known  species  the  buffalo-headed  duck, 
little  brown  duck,  spirit  duck,  conjuring  duck,  dipper, 
robin  dipper,  dapper  and  dopper,  die-dipper,  mario- 
nette, butter-ball,  butter-duck  and  butter-box,  diver, 
wool-head,  scotch  duck,  Scotchman,  scotch  dipper  and 
scotch  teal. 


Mt^ix]t ^,j2sg;ii?ki^*.4'..^^,. 


OLD-SQUAW,  LONG-TAILED  DUCK. 
Clangiila  hy emails  (Linn.). 


Male,  in  winter,  with  broad  strip  running  from  the 
base  of  the  bill,  back,  including  eye,  to  about  the  ear, 
pale  gray;  at  the  ear  darkening  to  black,  which  fades 
again  to  pale  gray  on  the  side  of  the  neck ;  top  and  back 
of  head,  throat  and  lower  sides  of  head  and  upper  neck, 
all  about,  white ;  breast,  back,  upper  tail-coverts,  wing 
and  long  feathers  of  tail,  black,  the  outer  sides  of  the 
tail  fading  to  white.  The  secondaries  are  reddish- 
brown  ;  scapulars,  pearl-gray ;  under  parts,  white. 

In  the  male,  in  summer,  the  pale  gray  line  running 
back  from  the  bill,  including  the  eye  and  parts  of  cheek, 
are  as  in  winter,  but  the  remaining  parts  of  head,  neck, 

185 


l86  LUCK    SHOOTING. 

breast  and  upper  parts  generally  are  deep  brown  or 
even  black.  The  feathers  on  the  fore-back  and  the 
scapulars  are  margined  with  tan.  The  other  upper 
parts  are  black,  or  blackish-brown,  with  some  grayish 
on  the  secondaries.  The  four  middle  tail  feathers  are 
black ;  the  breast  and  part  of  the  belly  are  dark  brown, 
and  the  rest  of  the  under  parts  white.  The  bill  is  black, 
crossed  by  a  bar  of  orange,  and  the  feet  are  black. 

The  female,  in  winter,  has  the  head,  neck  and  lower 
parts  white,  marked  with  dusky  on  forehead  and  crown, 
as  well  as  on  the  ears,  chin  and  throat.  The  upper 
parts  are  brown,  many  of  the  feathers  being  bordered 
with  grayish.  In  summer  the  head  and  neck  are  more 
gray  and  the  general  plumage  darker. 

The  old-squaw,  as  it  is  commonly  called  on  the  New 
England  coast,  is  one  of  the  commonest  of  our  winter 
birds,  and  is  found  on  both  coasts  of  America,  as  well 
as  of  the  Old  World.  It  is  a  beautiful  bird,  active, 
noisy  and  hardy,  going  little  further  south  than  it  is 
obliged  to  to  procure  food,  although  occasionally  it  ex- 
tends its  migrations  as  far  as  Florida  and  California. 
In  Europe  it  is  sometimes  found,  in  winter,  in  the  Medi- 
terranean Sea. 

The  old-squaw  breeds  in  the  Arctic  regions  and  has 
been  found  in  Spitzbergen,  Nova  Zembla,  Iceland 
and  Northern  Alaska,  as  well  as  in  Hudson's  Bay.  It 
commonly  associates,  even  on  the  breeding  grounds,  in 
great  flocks:  and  I  have  seen  them  in  Alaska  in  June 
and  July,  hundreds  together.  They  commonly  breed 
on  the  waters  of  fresh-water  pools,  making  their  nests 


LONG-TAILED    DUCK.  187 

under  low  bushes,  or  among  coarse  grass,  close  to  the 
water.  The  eggs  are  given  as  being  only  five  to  seven 
in  number.  The  nest  is  made  of  grass  and  weeds  and 
is  invariably  lined  with  down,  which  is  of  fine  quality, 
apparently  not  much  inferior  to  that  of  the  eider  duck. 

On  their  return  from  the  North  the  old-squaws  do 
not  reach  the  New  England  coast  until  the  weather  has 
grown  quite  cold,  long  after  the  different  varieties  of 
scoters  have  come  and  established  themselves  in  their 
winter  home.  Here  they  congregate  throughout  the 
winter  in  vast  numbers,  associating  with  the  scoters  and 
the  eiders  and  yet  often  keeping  very  much  by  them- 
selves. The  old-squaw  is  one  of  the  most  expert  of  div- 
ers and  it  used  to  be  stated — and  may  be  believed — that 
in  old  times  it  could  not  be  shot  on  the  water  with  a 
flint-lock  gun.  Even  now  it  frequently  dives  so  rap- 
idly as  to  apparently  escape  the  shot,  and  instances  are 
given  of  where  a  bird,  shot  at  when  flying  low  over  the 
water,  had  dived  from  the  wing  and  escaped  uninjured. 

The  common  name  of  this  species  refers  to  its  noisy 
habit.  It  is  continually  talking  while  on  the  water,  and 
the  flocks,  when  flying,  frequently  utter  their  musical 
cry.  In  almost  all  localities  the  bird  takes  its  name  from 
this  call,  which  is  difficult  of  imitation.  Perhaps  the 
Canadian  syllables,  Ca  xd-wee,  imitate  the  note  as  well 
as  anything  that  has  been  attempted.  South  south 
southerly  is  supposed  to  represent  it,  but  hardly  does  so. 
The  old-squaw  is  remarkable  for  the  rapidity  and  the 
irregularity  of  its  flight.  A  flock  starting  low  over  the 
water,  to  go  in  some  direction,  will  zig-zag  hither  and 


l88  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

thither,  constantly  uttering  their  mellow  cry  and  re- 
minding one,  in  their  swift  and  darting  flight,  of  the 
flocks  of  wild  pigeons  which  used  to  be  seen  in  the 
olden  times. 

Beautiful  and  active  bird  though  it  be,  the  old-squaw 
is  unfit  for  use  on  the  table.  It  is  always  fishy,  and  no 
treatment  with  which  I  am  acquainted  will  render  its 
flesh  palatable.  It  feeds  chiefly  on  shell-fish,  and  its 
flesh  tells  the  story. 

In  the  spring,  when  the  birds  are  preparing  to  take 
their  flight  to  the  North,  they  prepare  themselves  for 
their  long  journey  by  extended  flights ;  as  the  local  gun- 
ners call  it,  "trying  their  wings."  Late  in  the  after- 
noon they  rise  from  the  water  in  great  flocks  and  cir- 
cling high  in  the  air,  fly  about  for  hours,  performing 
many  beautiful  evolutions.  The  migrations  are  usually 
performed  by  night  and  perhaps  at  no  very  great  height 
above  the  ground.  At  all  events,  I  recall  that  some 
years  ago,  in  a  New  England  village  near  the  Sound, 
the  weather-vane  one  morning  in  April  was  observed  to 
be  missing  from  one  of  the  churches.  A  search  re- 
vealed it  lying  on  the  ground  near  the  building,  bent 
and  broken,  and  not  far  from  it  was  the  body  of  a  male 
old-squaw,  which  had  flown  against  the  vane  with  such 
force  as  to  break  off  the  iron  pivot  on  which  it  swung. 


HARLEQUIN  DUCK. 
Histrioniciis  histrionicus  (Linn.), 


The  general  color  of  the  male  harlequin  is  leaden- 
blue,  marked  with  black,  white  and  chestnut,  as  fol- 
lows :  Space  between  base  of  bill  and  eye,  with  a  strip 
extending  along  the  crown,  a  round  spot  near  the  ear,  a 
narrow  strip  extending  from  below  the  ear  a  short  dis- 
tance down  the  upper  neck,  a  narrow  collar  around  the 
lower  neck,  a  bar  across  the  side  of  breast,  in  front  of 
the  bend  of  the  wing,  a  part  of  the  scapulars  and  ter- 
tiary feathers,  tips  of  some  of  the  greater  wing-coverts, 
a  spot  on  the  lesser  wing-coverts  and  a  round  spot  on 
either  side,  just  before  the  tail,  white.    The  collar  about 

189 


190  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  neck,  the  bar  on  the  side  of  the  breast,  bordered  with 
black.  A  strip  from  the  forehead  to  the  back  of  the 
neck,  black,  bordered  with  rufous.  The  rest  of  the 
head  and  neck  is  dark  lead  color,  sometimes  almost 
blackish,  and  with  glossy  reflections.  The  rump,  upper 
and  under  tail-coverts  are  black ;  quills  of  the  wing  and 
tail,  dusky;  sides  and  flanks,  bright  tan,  inclining  to 
reddish.  The  bill  and  feet  are  bluish-gray;  length 
about  17  inches. 

The  adult  female  has  the  space  between  the  eyes  and 
bill  and  a  spot  behind  the  ear,  white;  the  rest  of  the 
head  and  neck  are  dark  brown,  darkest  on  top ;  wings 
and  tail  blackish ;  the  other  parts  reddish-brown,  except 
the  belly,  which  is  white. 

The  harlequin  duck  is  one  of  the  most  striking  and 
beautiful  of  our  ducks.  It  is  one  of  our  most  northern 
species  and  not  very  much  is  known  about  it.  On  the 
Atlantic  coast  it  is  seldom  found  south  of  Maine.  It  is 
a  bird  of  the  Old  World  as  well  as  the  New,  and,  in  fact, 
is  found  over  the  northern  portions  of  both  hemi- 
spheres. British  ornithologists,  however,  have  de- 
clared that  it  is  only  a  straggler  on  the  European  conti- 
nent, but  that  it  occurs  regularly  in  Iceland  and  Eastern 
Asia.  On  the  other  hand,  we  know  that  it  is  commonly 
found  during  the  summer  in  the  northern  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, and  I  have  seen  the  birds,  evidently  mated,  in  the 
Sierra  Nevadas,  in  June.  There,  Mr.  Ridgway  tells 
me  that  it  breeds  as  far  south,  at  least,  as  Calaveras 
County,  California. 

All  through  the  summer  months  in  Northwestern 


"•\ 


HARLEQUIN  DUCK.  191 

Montana  harlequins  may  be  seen  spending  their  time,  in 
small  numbers,  on  lakes,  often  in  the  high  mountainSj 
where  the  melting  waters  from  the  glaciers  form  curi- 
our  little  mountain  tarns  at  the  edge  of  the  timber  line. 
Its  nest  has  not  been  found  in  this  country,  and  only 
twice  in  Europe ;  once  by  Mr.  Shepard,  who  states  that 
he  found  it  breeding  in  Iceland  ''in  holes  in  the  trees," 
while  the  Messrs.  Pierson  state  that  they  found  them 
also  in  Iceland  in  holes  in  the  banks.  It  is  altogether 
probable  that  in  the  northern  Rocky  and  Sierra  Nevada 
mountains  the  harlequins  breed  in  trees,  while  in  Alaska 
they  very  likely  breed  in  holes.  In  the  summer  of  1899 
harlequins  were  seen  abundantly  on  the  salt  water  in 
Alaska,  but  all  those  taken  were  males.  They  were 
very  common  in  Prince  William  Sound  and  at  many 
points  in  the  Bering  Sea.  An  interesting  account  is 
given  in  the  Zoologist  for  1850  on  the  breeding  in 
confinement  of  a  pair  of  this  species  in  Melbourne  Gar- 
dens, Derbyshire.  Eight  eggs  were  laid,  which  were 
hatched  about  the  middle  of  June,  and  several  of  the 
young  ducks  reached  maturity.  Some  of  the  names 
given  for  this  duck  by  Mr.  Gurdon  Trumbull  are 
painted  duck,  mountain  duck,  rock  duck,  lord  for  the 
male  and  lady  for  the  female,  and  squealer. 


-  At\vvi.T^:g^\vgyp'^'':ASs^^:^ 


LABRADOR  DUCK. 


Camptolaimus  lahradoriiis  (  Gmel.  ) . 


In  the  adult  male  the  head,  upper  neck,  upper  breast 
and  wing,  except  the  long  quill  feathers,  are  white.  A 
strip  on  the  crown,  running  down  over  the  back  of  the 
head,  a  collar  about  the  neck,  the  back,  rump,  quills  of 
wing  and  tail  and  entire  under  parts,  black.  The 
cheeks  are  sometimes  tinged  with  yellowish.  The  long 
scapulars  are  pearly-gray  and  the  tertiaries  have  black 
margins.  The  bill  is  black,  with  some  orange  at  the 
base  and  along  the  edges;  the  feet  are  grayish-blue. 
The  bill  is  somewhat  expanded  near  the  tip. 

192 


LABRADOR    DUCK.  193 

The  female  has  the  plumage  of  a  general  brownish- 
gray  tint.  The  tcrtiaries  are  ashy-gray,  edged  with 
black,  and  the  secondaries,  white,  forming  a  distinct 
wing  patch.     The  bird  is  about  20  inches  in  length. 

The  Labrador  duck,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  the 
pied  duck,  is  one  of  our  North  American  birds  which 
has  already  become  extinct,  and  this  only  within  a  com- 
paratively few  years.  It  was  a  bird  of  the  sea-coast  and 
was  formerly  not  uncommon  along  the  Atlantic,  as  far 
south  as  New  Jersey,  yet  it  seems  never  to  have  been 
very  abundant.  Giraud,  who  wrote  in  1843,  ^^^^  of  it : 
'This  species  is  called  by  our  gunners  'skunk  duck,'  so 
named  from  the  similarity  of  its  markings  to  that  ani- 
mal. With  us  it  is  rather  rare,  chiefly  inhabiting  the 
western  side  of  the  continent.  In  New  Jersey  it  is 
called  'sand-shoal  duck.'  It  subsists  on  small  shell  and 
other  fish,  which  it  procures  by  diving.  Its  flesh  is  not 
considered  a  delicacy.  A  few  are  seen  in  our  market 
every  season." 

In  the  years  1871,  'y2  and  'y^i  specimens  were  occa- 
sionally exposed  for  sale  in  the  New  York  markets,  but 
even  at  that  time  the  bird  had  become  so  rare  that  orni- 
thologists were  on  the  watch  for  it,  and  as  soon  as  a 
specimen  was  exposed  for  sale  it  was  bought  up. 

The  pied  duck  was  a  strong  flier  and  apparently  well 
able  to  take  care  of  itself,  and  its  practical  extinction 
took  place  before  gunning  was  practiced  on  any  very 
great  scale.  It  was  not  especially  sought  for  as  a  table 
bird,  and  no  satisfactory  reason  has  as  yet  been  ad- 
vanced for  its  disappearance.     The  number  of  speci- 


194 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


mens  of  the  bird  now  existing  is  very  small,  probably 
not  more  than  sixty  in  all,  of  which  about  two-thirds 
are  in  this  country.  A  very  beautiful  group  of  Labra- 
dor ducks  is  to  be  seen  in  the  American  Museum  of 
Natural  History,  in  New  York,  where  five  specimens 
have  been  handsomely  mounted  in  their  natural  sur- 
roundings. 


^jf;^;_i.^;^,sfe^^5^^ 


)^^^;-^ 


STELLER'S  DUCK. 


Eniconetta  stcllcri  (Pall.). 


In  the  adult  male,  most  of  the  head  and  upper  portion 
of  neck  are  satiny  white ;  the  space  between  base  of  bill 
and  eye  and  the  tuft  running  across  the  back  of  the 
head,  dark  olive-g-reen.  The  space  about  the  eye,  chin 
and  throat,  and  band  about  the  lower  neck,  the  middle 
of  the  back,  the  long  shoulder  feathers,  tertiaries  and 
secondaries,  glossy  blue-black.  The  rump,  upper  tail- 
coverts  and  tail,  somewhat  duller  black.  The  scapulars 
are  streaked  lengthwise  with  white,  while  the  tertiaries 
have  the  inner  webs  of  the  feathers  fully  white,  and  the 
secondaries  are  tipped  with  white.  The  wing-coverts, 
some  of  the  scapulars  and  the  sides  of  the  back  are 
white.  The  quills  of  the  wing  are  dull  black,  while  the 
lower  parts  are  rusty-reddish,  darkest  in  the  middle  of 

195 


196  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  belly  and  fading  on  the  sides  and  breast  to  buff. 
The  dusky  of  the  belly  darkens  toward  the  tail,  until  it 
becomes  dull  black.  There  is  a  spot  of  blue-black  on 
the  sides  below  the  bend  of  the  wing.  The  bill  and  feet 
are  grayish-blue. 

The  adult  female  is  generally  reddish-brown, 
speckled  with  dusky  or  black.  There  are  two  narrow 
bars  across  the  wing,  formed  by  the  tips  of  the  greater 
coverts  and  of  the  secondaries.  The  speculum  is 
brownish ;  under  parts  light  brown,  spotted  with  brown- 
ish-black ;  the  back  sooty-brown. 

This  very  handsome  duck  is  found  in  America  only 
on  the  coasts  of  Alaska.  It  frequents  the  coast  of 
Asia,  however,  and  has  been  taken  in  Russia,  Sweden, 
Denmark  and  Britain.  It  appears,  however,  to  be  only 
a  straggler  in  Western  Europe.  It  is  distinctly  an  Arc- 
tic bird  and  more  numerous  in  Alaska  than  in  any  other 
region.  The  nest  is  built  on  the  ground,  among  the 
grass,  and  is  well  concealed.  It  is  said  to  breed  on  St. 
Lawrence  Island. 

The  species  is  one  that  can  interest  only  Alaskan 
sportsmen,  but  it  is  an  exceedingly  beautiful  bird. 


SPECTACLED  EIDER. 


ArctonettaHscheri  (Brandt). 


In  the  adult  male  the  space  immediately  about  the  eye 
is  silky  white,  bordered  by  a  line  of  velvety  black,  be- 
fore and  behind.  The  feathers  between  the  eye  and  the 
bill  are  stiff  and  extend  over  the  bill  almost  to  the  nos- 
tril. At  the  base  of  the  bill  they  are  white,  changing  to 
dark  green,  which  grows  paler  toward  the  black  bar 
before  the  eye.  The  crown,  back  of  the  head,  running 
down  a  little  way  on  the  neck,  pale  olive-green.  Be- 
neath the  space  around  the  eye  a  strip  extends  back  to 
meet  the  olive-green,  which  is  deep  dull  green.  The 
head  and  neck,  except  as  stated,  are  white.      All  the 

197 


198  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

lower  parts,  including  the  upper  breast,  are  pale  leaden- 
gray  ;  while  the  whole  back  and  wing,  except  the  greater 
wing-coverts,  the  tertiaries  and  a  patch  on  each  side  of 
the  rump,  are  yellowish-white.  The  bill  is  orange, 
deepest  along  the  edge,  and  pale  on  the  nail  The  eyes 
are  pale  blue  or  bluish-white.  The  feet  and  legs  are 
yellowish. 

In  the  adult  female  the  head  generally  is  buffy, 
streaked  with  dusky.  A  strip  of  brown  runs  from  the 
bill  before  the  eye  to  the  top  of  the  head.  The  throat 
is  very  little  streaked  or  spotted.  The  general  upper 
parts  are  tawny,  barred  with  black.  The  belly  and  the 
region  under  the  tail  is  grayish-brown.  The  length  is 
about  20  or  22  inches. 

The  spectacled  eider  is  another  Alaskan  bird  of  which 
not  very  much  is  known.  It  is  a  dweller  in  the  far 
North,  its  range  seeming  to  extend  only  from  the  mouth 
of  the  Kuskokwim  River  to  Point  Barrow,  where  it 
breeds.  Another  observer,  however,  gives  it  as  occur- 
ing  much  further  to  the  South,  and  says  that  it  breeds 
among  the  Aleutian  Islands,  where  it  is  a  resident,  al- 
though shy.  The  nest  is  built  in  the  grass,  not  far  from 
the  water,  and  the  eggs  are  from  five  to  nine  in  number. 
Mr.  Nelson,  who  has  spent  so  much  time  in  Alaska,  and 
is  very  familiar  with  this  bird,  sounds  a  note  of  warning 
about  it,  saying  that  it  might  readily  be  so  reduced  as  to 
become  very  rare.  It  is  an  extremely  local  bird,  and 
with  a  narrow  breeding  range,  and  with  the  attacks 
continually  made  on  it  for  food  by  the  Eskimo  it  has 
every  prospect  of  becoming  scarce. 


SPECTACLED  EIDER. 


199 


It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  autumn  plumage  of  male  and 
female  in  this  species  are  very  nearly  alike,  dark  brown 
with  black  mottling,  and  that  the  breeding  dress  does 
not  appear  to  be  assumed  until  toward  spring. 

It  is  said  that  the  flight  of  this  bird  is  unusually  swift, 
much  more  so  than  that  of  most  other  eiders,  and  that 
they  usually  fly  low  over  the  water. 


-^^^rf^ny^fri-f^Lj^ 


COMMON  EIDER. 
Somateria  mollissima  borealis  A.  E.  Brehm. 


The  adult  male  of  the  common  eider  duck  has  the 
crown  deep  black — split  behind  in  the  middle  line  by  a 
strip  of  white  or  greenish-white — and  reaching  forward 
from  the  eye  to  the  bill.  The  upper  part  of  the  back  of 
the  neck  and  the  feathers  back  of  the  ears  are  pale  green. 
The  rest  of  the  head  and  neck,  with  the  fore-breast, 
back,  scapulars,  wing-coverts,  tertiary  feathers  and  sides 
of  rump,  white,  often  tinged  with  yellow  or  creamy 
buff.  The  breast  is  sometimes  pink  tinted.  The  other 
under  parts,  the  greater  wing-coverts,  secondaries,  mid- 
dle of  rump  and  upper  tail-coverts,  black ;  quills  of  the 
wing  and  tail,  brownish-black ;  bill,  dull  orange-yellow  ; 
legs  and  feet,  orange. 

200 


COMMON    EIDER,  201 

The  adult  female  is  generally  of  a  reddish-brown 
color,  mostly  barred  with  black,  but  the  head  and  neck 
are  merely  narrowly  streaked  with  black.  The  crown 
of  the  head  is  darkest.  The  under  parts  are  a  grayish 
rather  than  reddish  brown,  with  darker  bars.  The  tips 
of  the  secondaries  are  white,  forming  two  bars  across 
the  wing.     Length  about  22  inches. 

The  eider  duck  inhabits  the  northern  shores  of  both 
coasts  of  the  Atlantic.  In  winter  it  is  found  in  more  or 
less  abundance  along  the  New  England  coast,  and  I 
have  seen  it  killed  as  far  south  as  Long  Island  Sound. 

The  eider  breeds  in  Labrador,  and  to  the  northward, 
and  in  many  parts  of  Europe  is  almost  a  domestic  bird. 
The  down,  which  is  plucked  from  the  breast  of  the 
female,  for  the  lining  of  the  nest,  is  a  valuable  article  of 
commerce,  and  in  an  earlier  chapter  something  has  been 
said  about  the  way  these  birds  are  protected  and  their 
down  secured  in  Norway  and  Iceland. 

When  seen  along  the  coast  of  Southern  New  Eng- 
land the  eider  is  often  found  associated  with  the  scoters, 
there  commonly  known  as  coots,  and  when  killed  it  is 
usually  shot  out  of  flocks  of  these  birds. 

Mr.  Gurdon  Trumbull  notes  as  names  of  this  bird, 
and  of  the  next,  the  terms  sea  duck  and  drake,  shoal 
duck.  Isles  of  Shoals  duck  and  wamp  (this  being  of 
Indian  origin,  probably  from  wompi,  white). 


AMERICAN  EIDER. 


Somateria  dresseri  Sharpe. 


In  this  species  the  colors  of  both  sexes  are  precisely 
like  those  of  the  preceding.  The  differences  between 
the  two  lie  chiefly  in  the  manner  in  which  the  feathers 
of  the  front  of  the  head  meet  the  naked  portions  of  the 
bill.  In  these  eiders,  on  either  side  of  the  forehead  a 
branch  of  the  naked  skin  of  the  bill  runs  up  into  the 
feathers,  which  border  it  above  and  below.  In  the  case 
of  the  common  eider  these  branches  are  narrow  and  run 
up  nearly  to  a  point,  but  in  the  American  form  they  are 
broad  and  terminate  abruptly  and  bluntly.  In  the  com- 
mon eider,  therefore,  the  feather  patches  running  down 
into  the  angles  between  the  naked  skin  are  broad,  while 
in  the  American  eider  they  are  narrow.     There  is  also 

202 


.:xf^ 


AMERICAN   EIDER.  203 


some  difference  in  the  shape  of  the  bills  in  the  two  spe- 
cies, that  of  the  common  eider  appearing  slightly 
straighter  and  more  slender,  while  in  the  American  bird 
the  upper  outline  of  the  bill  in  profile  is  slightly  concave. 
Slight  as  are  the  differences  between  the  two,  they  ap- 
pear to  be  constant  and  to  be  of  specific  value. 

The  American  eider  is  the  commoner  of  the  two 
along  the  American  coast.  It  is  said  to  be  found  in 
winter  along  the  Atlantic  as  far  south  as  the  Delaware 
River,  but  this  perhaps  only  in  winters  of  unusual  sever- 
ity. The  American  eider  sometimes  goes  inland,  and 
has  been  taken  on  the  Great  Lakes  and  in  adjacent 
States,  but  there  it  is  only  an  accidental  straggler. 

Its  breeding  grounds  are  in  Labrador  and  from  there 
to  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  The  nest  is  on  the  ground,  very 
often  on  small  islands,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  main- 
land, and  is  formed  of  moss,  weeds  and  twigs.  Often 
it  is  under  the  shelter  of  some  little  low-growing  ever- 
green, or  in  the  open  ground,  behind  the  shelter  of  a 
rock.  The  eggs  are  few  in  number,  only  six,  and  are 
usually  deposited  on  the  soft  layer  of  down  with  which 
the  nest  is  lined.  When  the  mother  leaves  the  nest  she 
covers  the  eggs  with  this  down.  The  young  are  dark 
mouse-color  when  first  hatched  and  are  at  once  expert 
in  swimming  and  diving.  As  soon  as  the  females  begin 
to  sit,  the  males  leave  them  and  assemble  in  flocks  in  the 
open  w^ater.  The  eggs  are  said  to  be  of  two  colors — one 
a  pale  greenish-olive,  the  other  much  browner;  the 
paler  tgg  is  sometimes  spotted  and  splashed  with 
darker. 


204  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

The  eiders  are  deep-sea  feeders  and  subsist  chiefly  on 
small  shell-fish,  which  they  bring  up  from  the  bottom, 
often  at  great  depths.  They  gather  together  in  large 
flocks,  and  when  they  rise  on  the  wing  do  so  gradually, 
running  and  flapping  along  over  the  water  for  some  dis- 
tance, much  after  the  manner  of  the  scoters.  In  fact, 
in  many  of  their  ways  these  birds  remind  us  much  of 
scoters. 

As  might  be  inferred  from  their  food,  eiders  are  not 
desirable  table  birds,  the  flesh  being  usually  fishy  and 
very  rank. 


PACIFIC  EIDER. 

Somateria  v-nigra  Gray, 

The  plumage  of  the  adult  male  is  extremely  like  that 
of  the  two  preceding  species,  though  the  bird  is  some- 
what larger,  with  a  broader  and  deeper  bill  The  black 
of  the  crown  extends  forward  in  the  white  strip  beneath 
the  forehead  branch  of  the  bill,  but  does  not  reach  as  far 
forward  aG  the  nostril.  In  the  male  there  is  a  large 
V-shaped  black  mark  on  the  throat,  as  in  the  king  eider, 
but  in  this  species  the  V-shaped  mark  is  longer  and  nar- 
rower than  m  the  king  duck.  The  color  of  the  bill  is 
deep  orange,  almost  orange-red,  fading  toward  the  tip, 

205 


206  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

which  is  yellowish- white.    The  legs  and  feet  are  brown- 
ish-orange. 

The  female  is  pale  brown  on  the  head  and  neck,  dark- 
est on  the  crown,  streaked  everywhere  with  blackish. 
The  upper  parts  are  reddish,  barred  with  black.  The 
length  is  about  22  inches. 

This  eider  is  the  common  Pacific  coast  form,  found 
in  the  North  Pacific,  Bering  Sea  and  on  the  coast  of 
Siberia.  It  is  scarcely,  or  not  at  all,  known  south  of 
Alaska.  In  the  Arctic  Ocean  it  is  found  as  far  east  as 
the  Coppermine  River.  It  breeds  throughout  much  of 
this  range,  not  only  in  Alaska,  but  on  the  shores  of  the 
Arctic  Ocean.  The  nests  are  variously  placed,  some- 
times at  quite  a  distance  from  the  water ;  at  others,  close 
to  it.  They  are  sometimes  on  little  islands,  and  are 
abundantly  provided  with  down.  In  Alaska  the  breed- 
ing ground  is  often  in  the  marsh  and  sometimes  the 
place  chosen  is  close  to  human  habitation.  The  male  is 
reported  as  assisting  in  building  the  nest  and  as  con- 
stantly associating  with  the  female  during  the  time  of 
incubation,  though  he  himself  takes  no  share  in  that 
labor.  The  food  of  this  eider  is  generally  mussels  and 
shell-fish,  which  it  brings  up  from  the  deep  water. 

When  the  young  are  hatched,  early  in  July,  the  old 
birds  begin  to  molt.  The  natives  pursue  the  ducks  in 
their  canoes,  striking  at  them  with  their  spears.  It  is 
said  that  they  do  not  kill  many.  Like  the  other  eiders 
already  spoken  of,  the  fall  plumage  of  the  male  is 
closely  like  that  of  the  female,  and  we  are  told  that  the 
young  males  only  attain  their  full  adult  breeding  dress 


PACIFIC  EIDER, 


207 


at  the  commencement  of  the  third  year.  The  Pacific 
eider  is  a  large  and  handsome  duck,  weighing  from 
four  to  six  pounds.  It  is  said  to  be  loath  to  fly  in 
stormy  weather  and  to  avoid  rough  water,  resorting  to 
the  beach  during  wind  storms  or  else  taking  to  shel- 
tered bays  and  inlets,  where  the  water  is  quiet. 


KING  EIDER. 


Somateria  spcctahilis  (Linn.), 


In  the  adult  male  the  feathers  about  the  base  of  the 
bill,  a  small  spot  below  and  behind  the  eye,  and  a  large 
V-shaped  mark  on  the  throat,  black.  The  whole  top 
and  back  of  the  head,  running  down  to  the  nape  of  the 
neck,  pearl-gray  or  bluish-white,  darkest  below,  where 
it  sometimes  changes  almost  to  black.  The  sides  of 
the  head,  running  back  from  the  bill  below,  pearl-gray, 
and  a  patch  over  the  ear  sea-green,  fading  into  white 
above  and  behind.  The  rest  of  the  head,  neck,  middle 
oi  the  back,  most  of  the  wing  and  a  patch  on  either  side 
of  the  rump,  white ;  the  breast  deep  buff  or  cream-color. 
The  greater  wing-coverts,  scapulars,  or  shoulder  feath- 
ers, and  primaries,  brownish-black.  The  scapulars 
and  tertiary  feathers  are  falcate  or  sickle-shaped,  bend- 
ing downward  over  the  primaries.  The  hinder  portion 
of  the  back,  rump,  upper  tail-coverts  and  under  parts, 

208 


KING  EIDER.  209 

black ;  the  tail  is  brownish-black.  Except  in  the  breed- 
ing season,  the  bill  is  shaped  much  as  in  the  ordinary 
eider  duck,  but  in  spring  there  is  a  large,  square,  soft 
swelling  on  the  bill,  extending  down  nearly  to  the  nos- 
trils. The  feathering  in  the  median  line  extends  down 
further  on  the  top  of  the  bill  than  it  does  on  the  sides,  in 
this  respect  differing  markedly  from  any  of  the  other 
eiders.  The  bill  is  reddish-orange,  and  the  legs  and 
feet  similar,  but  slightly  paler.  The  length  is  about  23 
inches. 

The  adult  female  has  the  plumage  buff  or  tawny, 
streaked  on  head,  chin  and  throat  with  darker,  the 
streaking  being  most  abundant  on  the  top  of  the  head. 
The  breast  and  sides  are  somewhat  paler,  with  black 
bars  across  the  feathers.  The  back  and  shoulder  feath- 
ers are  blackish-brown,  tipped  with  yellowish.  The 
wing  feathers  are  mainly  black  or  blackish-brown,  the 
greater  coverts  or  secondaries  being  tipped  with  white, 
to  form  two  narrow  bars  across  the  wing.  The  ter- 
tiaries  are  reddish  on  the  outer  webs.  The  rump  and 
upper  tail-coverts  are  tawny,  barred  with  black;  tail, 
black ;  breast  and  belly,  blackish-brown ;  under  tail-cov- 
erts, reddish,  barred  with  black.  The  bill  is  greenish- 
gray  and  the  feet  yellowish. 

Like  some  of  the  other  eiders,  this  is  a  bird  of  cir- 
cumpolar  distribution,  and  is  found  in  both  continents. 
It  appears  to  be  everywhere  much  less  abundant  than 
other  birds  of  the  genus  and  is  found  chiefly  in  the  far 
North,  although  it  sometimes  occurs  on  the  New  Eng- 
land coast.     It  has  been  found  in  Long  Island  Sound 


2IO  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

and  on  the  New  Jersey  coast,  as  well  as  on  one  or  more 
of  the  Great  Lakes  and  on  some  of  the  far  inland  rivers. 
It  appears  to  be  nowhere  a  very  abundant  species,  but  is 
found  in  the  Arctic  Sea,  on  both  coasts  of  America,  and 
is  not  uncommon  in  Alaska.  All  the  Arctic  expedi- 
tions report  seeing  it  and  many  have  found  its  nest.  It 
is  resident  in  Greenland  and  it  is  said  that  it  occasion- 
ally breeds  as  far  to  the  southward  as  the  Bay  of 
Fundy. 

Mr.  Charles  Linden  reports  it  as  having  been  taken, 
on  a  number  of  occasions,  on  Lake  Erie,  and  Mr.  Nel- 
son gives  it  as  a  visitor  to  Lake  Michigan  and  to  other 
parts  of  Illinois  and  Wisconsin ;  while  the  Smithsonian 
Institution  possesses  specimens  shot  on  Lake  Erie  and 
others  secured  on  the  Illinois  River. 

In  Alaska  Dr.  Dall  has  found  it,  though  not  south  of 
the  Bering  Sea.  It  occurs,  however,  in  the  Bering  Sea, 
on  both  the  American  and  Asiatic  coasts,  not  far  south 
of  Bering  Straits. 

The  king  eider  breeds  far  to  the  northward.  Its 
nest  is  entirely  simple,  merely  a  hollow  in  the  ground,  in 
which  pale  green  eggs  are  deposited,  over  which  the 
female  bird  commonly  places  a  layer  of  down. 

From  what  has  been  said  of  its  range  it  will  be  seen 
that  the  king  eider  is  not  likely  to  come  within  the  reach 
of  the  gunner,  except  as  a  very  rare  straggler.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  ducks,  and  the  male,  if 
killed,  can  at  once  be  recognized.  This  species  feeds 
chiefly  on  shell-fish  of  various  descriptions,  and,  as  may 
be  imagined,  is  not  a  desirable  bird  for  the  table. 


AMERICAN  SCOTER. 


Oidemia  americana  Svv.  and  Rich. 


In  the  adult  male  the  entire  plumage  is  deep  black; 
the  neck  shows  faint  purplish  reflections ;  the  fore  part 
of  the  bill  and  a  line  running  back  to  the  feathers,  along 
the  cutting  edge,  black;  the  remainder  of  bill,  from  be- 
fore the  nostrils,  much  swollen,  and  bright  orange  in 
color ;  the  legs  and  feet  are  black. 

The  adult  female  has  the  bill  entirely  black.  Above, 
the  plumage  is  dark  grayish-brown ;  the  feathers  of  the 
cheeks,  back  and  scapulars  often  tipped  with  paler ;  the 
lower  parts  are  more  nearly  gray.  The  length  is  about 
1 8  inches. 

The  scoter  is  a  bird  of  very  wide  distribution,  being 
found  on  both  coasts  of  North  America,  as  well  as  on 

211 


212  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

many  inland  lakes.  On  the  Pacific  coast  it  ranges  from 
the  Arctic  to  Southern  California  and  on  the  Atlantic 
at  least  as  far  south  as  the  Chesapeake  Bay.  Mr.  Au- 
dubon, on  the  other  hand,  says  that  the  scoter  ranges 
along  the  entire  southern  coast  and  that  it  is  found  as 
far  south  as  the  Mississippi  River. 

On  its  southward  migration  the  scoter  reaches 
Southern  New  England  late  in  September,  and  often  in 
open  winters  remains  there  through  the  whole  season, 
taking  its  departure  for  the  North  in  May.  When, 
however,  the  weather  is  cold,  and  the  shore  blocked 
with  ice,  it  moves  further  southward  to  open  feeding 
grounds,  returning  northward  as  the  ice  disappears. 

Alaskan  travelers  have  found  this  species  as  far 
north  as  Norton  Sound,  where  it  breeds,  as  well  as  on 
the  east  coast  of  Labrador.  This  species,  with  other 
scoters,  also  breeds  in  some  of  our  inland  lakes,  nests 
of  these  birds  having  been  found  on  some  of  the  larger 
lakes  in  Dakota  and  the  birds  having  been  seen  in  abun- 
dance on  the  Yellowstone  Lake,  in  Wyoming,  all 
through  the  summer. 

The  scoter  on  the  New  England  coast  is  usually 
found  associated  with  the  white-winged  and  the  surf 
scoters,  which  commonly  outnumber  it  in  the  flocks. 

All  these  scoters  are  characterized  by  curiously  swol- 
len and  more  or  less  hollow  bills,  which  are  highly  col- 
ored. All  of  them  are  known  along  the  eastern  sea- 
board as  "coots." 


ilBiiiiiii^iiliiiilitiiiiiiifrffl 


P!i!!':'iii!'!i!'^-'i!!!!'!'l''!;','''i'^3.''''!)!?''''fllli^^^ 


i;li!1ii!i|i!;7|[i 


!a^!i!ii!^i!:ii!!'!;a!| 


AMERICAN    VELVET  SCOTER. 


Oidemia  deglandi  Bonap. 


The  adult  male  has  the  bill  expanded  into  a  promi- 
nent knob  at  the  base  on  the  top.  At  the  sides  the  bill 
is  sunken,  as  if  hollowed  out.  This  knob,  with  the  base 
of  the  bill  and  its  margin,  are  black.  The  sides  of  the 
bill  in  front  are  red,  changing  to  orange  and  then  to 
white  near  the  tip.  The  plumage  is  uniform  black, 
often  very  deep  or  often  brownish  throughout.  There 
is  a  small  white  spot  behind  the  eye  and  the  secondaries 
are  white. 

The  female  is  uniform  dirty  gray,  the  wings  darker 
than  the  body.  The  secondaries  are  white,  as  in  the 
male.     The  length  is  about  2 1  inches. 

213 


214  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

One  of  the  commonest  of  the  winter  sea-ducks  is  the 
velvet  duck,  more  often  called  the  white-winged  coot. 
It  is  found  on  both  coasts  and  also  on  the  Great  Lakes 
and  some  of  the  inland  rivers  in  winter.  It  comes 
down  to  the  New  England  coast  late  in  September  and 
spends  the  winter  there  in  company  with  the  other 
coots  and  the  eider  ducks.  It  is  exceedingly  abundant 
and  is  shot  by  the  various  methods  described  in  the 
chapter  on  sea  shooting.  While  migrating,  or  while 
taking  long  flights,  it  flies  high  above  the  water,  often 
out  of  gunshot,  but  from  such  heights  I  have  sometimes 
seen  it  brought  down^  either  by  the  expedient  of  shoot- 
ing or  shouting  ar  it,  or  somedmes  I  have  seen  a  gun- 
ner scale  his  hat  high  into  the  air,  when  the  whole  flock 
would  dart  20  or  30  or  40  yards  directly  downward  to- 
ward the  water  and  then  continue  their  flight.  Usually 
the  birds,  when  flying  from  their  roosting  to  their  feed- 
ing grounds,  pass  but  a  few  feet  above  the  water,  mov- 
ing along  with  a  strong,  steady  flight. 

The  white-winged  coot  feeds  almost  exclusively  on 
small  shell-fish,  which  it  brings  up  from  the  bottom, 
and  the  flesh  is  very  far  from  palatable.  The  gunner 
on  the  New  England  coast  who  kills  them,  usually  par- 
boils them  for  a  time,  and  then  bakes  them,  the  result 
being  a  dish  that  is  eatable,  but  is  thought  by  many  to 
lack  character. 

The  velvet  ducks  breed  in  Labrador  and  to  the  north- 
ward as  far  as  the  Barren  Grounds.  The  nest,  often 
made  among  underbrush  or  low  woods,  is  a  hollow  in 
the  moss,  lined  with  down,  and  contains  seven  or  eigfht 


AMERICAN  VELVET  SCOTER.  215 

eggs.  This  species,  like  the  old-squaw  and  other 
coots,  spends  much  of  its  time,  late  in  the  spring,  in  pre- 
paring for  the  long  flight  that  it  must  make  to  its  sum- 
mer home.  The  hours  from  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon until  dark  are  spent  chiefly  on  the  wing,  and 
often  it  is  not  much  before  the  first  of  June  when  the 
last  of  the  coots  leave  the  New  England  shore. 

On  the  Pacific  coast  this  species  is  found  in  winter  as 
far  south  as  Southern  California  and  in  summer  to 
the  Bering  Sea.  In  the  month  of  July  I  have  seen  them 
on  the  Gulf  of  Georgia  in  vast  numbers,  the  birds  being, 
no  doubt,  chiefly  males,  the  females  nesting  somewhere 
in  the  vicinity. 

The  coots  are  regarded  as  exceedingly  tough  and 
hard  to  kill,  and  the  gunners  along  the  New  England 
coast  who  shoot  them  commonly  use  very  large  shot, 
often  3's,  and  sometimes  2's.  Birds  that  are  only 
wounded,  dive  and  skulk  with  great  skill,  and  if  there 
is  any  sea  on  the  water,  are  likely  to  escape  notice  and 
not  to  be  recovered.  Often  they  dive,  and  apparently 
never  come  to  the  surface  again,  and  it  is  believed  that 
they  cling  to  weeds  at  the  bottom  and  remain  there  until 
dead. 

Some  of  the  names  given  for  this  species  by  Mr. 
Trumbull  are  May  white-wing  or  great  May  white- 
wing,  pied-winged  coot,  bell-tongue  coot.  Uncle  Sam 
coot,  bull  coot,  brant  coot,  sea  brant,  assemblyman, 
channel  duck. 


VELVET  SCOTER. 


Oidemia  fuse  a  (Linn.). 

In  the  adult  male  the  bill  is  much  swollen  near  the 
gap,  but  is  not  much  elevated  at  the  base.  The  general 
color  is  orange  or  reddish,  crossed  on  each  side  by  a 
diagonal  black  line,  running  from  above  the  nostril 
obliquely  to  the  side  of  the  nail.  The  plumage  is 
brownish-black,  with  a  small  patch  behind  the  eyes,  and 
a  white  speculum  on  the  wing. 

The  female  is  sooty-gray,  paler  beneath,  and  with  a 
white  speculum. 

The  velvet  scoter  is  scarcely  to  be  considered  an 
American  bird,  being  only  an  accidental  visitor  to  our 
shores.  It  is  an  Old  World  species,  which  has,  how- 
ever, been  taken  in  Greenland.  It  is  not  a  bird  to  be 
considered  by  the  sportsmen,  who  will  never  meet 
with  it. 

216 


SURF   SCOTER,   SKUNK-HEAD. 


Oidemia  perspicillata  (Linn.), 


The  adiilt  male  is  deep  black  above,  changing  on  the 
lower  parts  to  a  very  dark  brownish-black.  There  is  a 
white  patch  on  the  forehead,  cut  off  squarely  behind  the 
eyes,  and  running  out  to  a  point  a  little  beyond  the  gap 
of  the  bill.  On  the  back  of  the  head  and  neck  there  is 
another  white  patch,  cut  off  squarely  in  front  and  run- 
ning down  to  a  semi-circular  ending  on  the  back  of  the 
neck.  The  bill  is  swollen  at  the  base,  white  and  red  in 
color,  with  a  squarish  patch  of  black  on  either  side  near 
the  base.  The  nail  is  horn-color.  The  feet  are  orange, 
with  dusky  webs. 

The  adult  female  is  brownish-black  everywhere,  be- 

217 


2l8  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

coming  sooty  or  almost  lead-color  below,  and  some- 
times almost  white  on  the  abdomen.  The  bill  is  black, 
but  little  swollen,  and,  of  course,  the  black  spot  shown 
in  the  male  is  not  apparent.  The  bird's  length  is  about 
20  inches.  Mr.  Ridgway  states  that  sometimes  in  the 
adult  male  there  are  other  white  marks  than  those  de- 
scribed, and  sometimes  one  or  the  other  of  the  white 
patches  on  top  of  the  head  is  wanting,  but  these  condi- 
tions are  very  unusual. 

This  species,  which  is  known  as  surf  duck  in  the 
books,  is  commonly  called  by  gunners  coot,  sea  duck, 
skunk-head  and  also  sometimes  hollow-billed  coot.  It 
is  peculiar  to  America  and  in  habits  and  distribution 
does  not  differ  markedly  from  our  other  coots.  It  is 
said  to  breed  on  the  Arctic  coast  and  to  proceed  south- 
ward as  far  as  Bermuda.  It  is  also  commonly  found 
on  the  Great  Lakes  and  is  not  infrequently  killed  by 
gunners  on  the  marshes  to  the  south  of  them.  Mr. 
Audubon  found  it  breeding  as  far  south  as  Labrador, 
in  fresh-water  marshes,  and  the  nest  was  rather  more 
substantial  than  that  of  many  of  the  sea-ducks,  being 
well  built  and  lined  with  down.  It  contained  five  eggs, 
of  a  cream  color.  Nests  found  by  Mr.  MacFarlane 
on  the  Anderson  River  contained  eight  eggs. 

While  vast  numbers  of  coots  winter  on  the  New 
England  coast,  and  seem  to  thrive  there,  numbers  ap- 
parently equally  great  proceed  further  south,  wintering 
in  the  mouths  of  the  Delaware  River  and  in  Chesapeake 
Bay  and  out  at  sea.  In  these  regions,  however,  where 
there  are  so  many  better  ducks,  they  are  not  much  pur- 


SURF    SCOTER,    SKUNK-HEAD. 


219 


sued,  and,  on  the  whole,  it  may  be  said  of  these  coots, 
and  of  the  old-squaw,  that  they  are  not  rapidly  grow- 
ing fewer  in  numbers. 

Besides  the  names  already  given,  Mr.  Trumbull  tells 
us  that  this  duck  is  called  horse-head  and  bald-pate,  off 
the  coast  of  Maine ;  patch-head,  patch-polled  coot  and 
white-scop,  at  other  points  on  the  New  England  coast ; 
muscle-bill,  pictured-bill  and  plaster-bill,  snuff-taker, 
spectacled-bill  coot  and  spectacle  coot,  blossom-bill  and 
blossom-head,  butter-boat-billed  coot ;  while  the  females 
and  young  are  called,  at  various  points,  pishaug,  gray 
coot  and  brown  coot. 


RUDDY  DUCK. 


Erismatura  rubida  (WiLS.) 


The  adult  male  has  the  crown  black,  which  color 
runs  down  on  the  back  of  the  neck ;  the  side  of  head, 
including  cheeks  and  chin,  pure  white ;  the  entire  upper 
parts,  reddish-chestnut,  except  the  wing-coverts;  the 
middle  of  the  rump  and  lower  back,  greenish-brown, 
freckled  with  paler.  The  quills  of  the  wing  and  tail 
are  brownish-black;  the  under  parts  are  silvery- whit- 
ish, something  like  the  breast  color  of  some  of  the 
grebes.  The  under  tail-coverts  are  white ;  the  bill  and 
feet  grayish-blue;  length,  i6  inches. 

The  female  is  much  duller;  the  upper  part  of  the 
head  is  dark  brown,  paling  on  the  sides  of  the  head. 

220 


RUDDY    DUCK.  221 

Often  there  is  a  white  strip  below  the  eyes,  running 
almost  from  the  base  of  the  bill  to  the  back  of  the 
head.  The  chin  is  white.  The  throat  and  neck  are 
brownish-gray,  fading  to  silvery  on  the  breast  and 
belly.  The  upper  parts  are  grayish-brown,  mottled 
and  speckled  with  reddish.  The  wings  and  scapulars 
are  dark  brown ;  the  quills  of  tail  and  wings  as  in  the 
male ;  the  bill  is  bluish,  often  blackish,  and  the  legs  and 
feet,  bluish-gray.     The  young  male  is  still  duller. 

The  ruddy  duck  is  found  throughout  North  Amer- 
ica, and  is  one  of  the  gentlest  and  most  unsuspicious  of 
our  birds.  It  is  resident  in  Northern  South  America, 
and  yet  it  frequents  the  northern  portions  of  the  con- 
tinent as  far  as  the  58th  parallel.  It  is  abundant  in 
California  and  equally  so  on  our  South  Atlantic  coast 
and  occurs  often  in  Massachusetts  during  the  spring 
migration. 

The  ruddy  duck,  although  it  takes  a  long  time  to 
■rise  from  the  water,  is  a  strong  flier.  It  is,  however, 
very  much  at  home  on  the  water,  a  rapid  swimmer  and 
a  very  good  diver.  The  ruddy  is  a  most  gentle  and  un- 
suspicious little  bird,  and  appears  to  pay  no  attention  to 
the  gunner,  though  he  may  be  standing  in  plain  sight, 
as  it  darts  down  and  splashes  into  the  water  among  the 
decoys.  Until  within  a  few  years,  gunners  in  our 
South  Atlantic  waters  never  shot  these  little  birds, 
which  were  accustomed  to  come  to  the  decoys  and  feed 
among  them  and  then  swim  or  fly  away  unmolested. 
Of  late  years,  however,  this  has  become  a  fashionable 
bird  for  the  table,  and,  bringing  good  prices,  is  eagerly 


222  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

sought  after  by  market  gunners.  Great  numbers  are 
therefore  killed  each  season  now,  where  formerly  they 
were  almost  unmolested,  and  the  result  has  been  a  very 
noticeable  reduction  in  the  numbers  of  these  little  birds. 
The  ruddy  duck  has  a  great  number  of  common 
names,  most  of  which  refer  to  its  physical  peculiarities 
or  to  its  great  gentleness.  Thus  it  is  called  sleepy 
broad-bill,  sleepy-head,  sleepy  duck,  sleepy  coot,  sleepy 
brother,  fool  duck,  deaf  duck,  booby  and  booby  coot, 
paddy  and  noddy.  From  its  tail  it  is  called  stiff-tail, 
spine-tail,  quill-tail  coot,  pin-tail,  bristle-tail,  heavy- 
tailed  duck,  stick-tail  and  dip-tail  diver.  From  its  sup- 
posed toughness,  or  the  difficulty  with  which  it  is 
killed,  come  such  names  as  hard-headed  broad-bill, 
shot-pouch,  stub  and  twist,  hard-head,  tough-head, 
hickory-head,  greaser,  steel-head,  light-wood  knot  and 
perhaps  hard  tack.  There  are  a  great  number  of  other 
names,  for  which  the  reader  must  be  referred  to  Mr. 
Trumbull's  excellent  volume. 


vi';;-  ,,f ii*'^v«*(y!J<*iiW»«f*(/»A'w'(»!?/'M':yf™  ^ffwMi, 


4^'        ---    --: 


MASKED  DUCK. 


Nomonyx  dorninicus  (Linn.). 


The  adult  male,  in  full  plumage,  neck  all  around, 
back  and  sides,  dark  cinnamon-brown,  the  back  and 
sides  with  the  feathers  broadly  streaked  with  black ;  the 
front  of  head,  including  chin,  cheeks  and  crown,  black, 
this  color  extending  nearly  to  the  back  of  the  head.  The 
lower  parts  are  rusty,  but  the  feathers  of  the  side  are 
streaked  with  black.  The  wings  are  brownish-black, 
with  a  white  speculum.  The  under  tail-coverts  are 
brownish,  spotted  with  black.  The  tail  is  dark  brown ; 
the  bill  blue,  and  feet  blackish;  length  about  15  inches. 

The  female  has  the  head  black,  with  one  or  two 
brownish  streaks  running  back  from  the  bill.  The 
chestnut  is  paler,  verging  to  yellowish,  and  spotted 
with  black;  the  sexes  are  thus  much  alike,  but  the 
female  is  very  much  duller. 

223 


224  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

The  masked  duck  is  found  in  North  America  only 
as  a  straggler,  for  it  belongs  in  the  tropics.  It  is  a 
common  West  Indian  and  South  American  species.  It 
has  been  taken  on  Lake  Champlain,  in  New  York,  in 
Massachusetts,  in  Wisconsin,  Texas  and  Mexico.  It 
does  not  appear  to  be  anywhere  an  abundant  species,  as 
is  its  near  relative,  the  ruddy  duck.  We  are  told  that  it 
does  not  seem  to  be  at  all  at  home  on  the  land,  and  that 
when  it  walks  it  is  in  some  degree  supported  by  its  long, 
stiff  tail.  Gunners  should  be  on  the  watch  for  this 
species. 


FISH  DUCKS. 

SUB-FAMILY  MergifiCB. 

The  mergansers,  or,  as  they  are  often  called,  the  fish- 
ing ducks,  may  be  distinguished  from  all  others  of  the 
AnatidcE  by  their  narrow  and  round  (not  flattened) 
bills,  always  provided  with  sharp,  backward-directed,' 
tooth-like  lamellae.  Except  for  their  bills,  they  are 
like  the  sea-ducks.  They  are  birds  of  handsome  plu- 
mage, always  provided  with  a  crest,  which  in  the  male 
may  be  enormously  enlarged  and  very  striking,  as  in 
the  hooded  merganser,  or  merely  puffy,  with  brilliant 
iridescent  hues,  as  in  the  goosander.  The  mergansers 
feed  almost  altogether  on  small  fish,  which  they  cap- 
ture by  diving,  and  as  a  consequence  their  flesh  is  not  at 
all  desirable.  Our  species  are  widely  distributed  over 
America. 


225 


AMERICAN  MERGANSER. 


Merganser  americanus  (Cass.). 


The  adult  has  the  head  and  upper  neck  greenish- 
black,  with  brilliant  metallic  reflections,  the  head  being 
puffy  and  the  feathers  slightly  longest  on  the  back  of 
the  head.  The  back  is  black,  fading  to  ashy-gray  on 
the  rump  and  upper  tail-coverts.  The  primaries  and 
secondaries  are  black,  but  the  rest  of  the  wing  is  chiefly 
white,  crossed  by  a  black  bar.  The  under  parts  are 
white,  tinged  with  salmon  color,  rosy  or  pinkish,  which 
does  not  last  long  after  death.  In  old  skins,  the  breast 
feathers  often  become  barred  with  ashy.  The  tail  is 
ashy-gray,  with  bill,  eyes  and  feet  bright  red.  Length 
about  26  inches. 

226 


AMERICAN   MERGANSER.  22^ 

In  the  female  the  head  and  neck  are  reddish-brown, 
and  there  is  a  long  crest  on  the  back  of  the  head,  much 
more  marked  than  in  the  male.  The  chin  and  throat 
are  white,  the  upper  parts  gray.  About  one-half  of 
each  secondary  feather  is  white,  forming  a  speculum 
on  the  wing.  The  primaries  are  black,  the  flanks  and 
tail  gray.  The  lower  parts  are  pinkish  salmon-color  in 
life,  fading  to  white.     The  bill  and  feet  are  red. 

Valueless  as  food,  the  great  merganser  is  certainly 
one  of  our  most  beautiful  and  graceful  birds.  It  is  a 
close  relative  of  the  goosander  of  Europe,  and  was  long 
considered  to  be  the  same  bird.  The  differences  on 
which  they  are  separated  are  very  slight.  The  mer- 
ganser is  a  resident  of  the  extreme  North  in  summer. 
It  is  found  in  Alaska,  though  apparently  not  very  com- 
mon there ;  and,  in  fact,  it  does  not  seem  to  be  a  very 
common  bird  anywhere,  both  the  other  species  exceed- 
ing it  in  numbers.  It  is  one  of  our  most  hardy  birds, 
and  one  of  the  last  to  ^o  South  in  the  autumn ;  and,  in- 
deed, it  will  remain  about  air  holes  in  the  rivers,  where 
it  can  fish,  long  after  most  other  ducks  have  taken  their 
departure  for  the  South. 

It  is  well  established  that  the  goosander  breeds  in  the 
hollows  of  trees,  wherever  trees  are  accessible,  though 
some  observers  who  have  reported  nests  of  this  species 
from  the  far  North,  beyond  where  timber  grows,  state 
that  it  builds  its  nest  upon  the  ground  in  the  ordinary 
manner  of  many  of  the  salt-water  ducks. 

Definite  information  as  to  the  breeding  habits  of  this 
merganser  was  first  given  by  Mr.  Geo.  A.  Boardman, 


228  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

of  Calais,  Me.,  to  whom  ornithology  owes  so  much. 
In  Forest  and  Stream  he  has  said : 

''Many  years  ago  I  was  up  at  Grand  Lake  Stream- 
salmon  fishing,  when  I  saw  a  large  duck  fly  into  a  hole 
high  up  in  a  large  birch  tree.  The  log  drivers  said  it 
was  a  sheldrake  and  had  nested  there  many  years,  I 
was  anxious  to  see  what  kind  of  a  merganser  it  was. 
After  the  log  drivers'  day's  work  was  done  one  of  them 
by  driving  spikes  managed  to  get  up.  The  old  bird 
flew  out,  and  he  brought  down  one  Qgg,  and  said  there 
were  seven  more.  I  then  got  the  man  to  arrange  a 
noose  over  the  hole,  and  the  next  morning  we  had  the 
old  bird  hung  by  the  neck  and  the  eight  eggs  were  new 
to  science.  The  log  drivers  said  they  had  seen  the  old 
bird  bring  down  the  young  in  her  bill  to  the  water. 
Several  years  later  Mr.  John  Krider,  of  Philadelphia, 
went  with  me  to  the  same  tree  and  collected  the  eggs. 
He  was  a  well-known  collector.  Mr.  Audubon  was 
mistaken  in  his  account  of  the  nesting  of  this  mergan- 
ser, since  he  describes  it  as  nesting  on  the  ground 
among  rushes,  in  the  manner  of  the  serrator,  having  a 
large  nest  raised  7  or  8  inches  above  the  surface." 

Often,  while  travelling  along  streams  in  uninhabited 
parts  of  the  country,  one  may  come  upon  a  mother  mer- 
ganser and  her  brood  of  tiny  young  and  may  drive 
them  before  him  for  miles  along  the  stream,  the  birds 
keeping  well  out  of  his  way,  and  the  mother  watching 
over  them  with  the  tenderest  care.  It  is  a  curious  sight 
to  see  these  little  downy  creatures  run,  as  it  seems,  over 
the  surface  of  the  water,  at  the  same  time  flapping  their 


AMERICAN   MERGANSER. 


229 


tiny  featherless  wings,  but  making  extraordinary  prog- 
ress. 

While  the  goosander,  like  others  of  its  kind,  feeds 
almost  exclusively  on  fish,  it  is  said  that  in  the  autumn 
its  flesh  is  not  noticeably  bad,  but  that  in  spring  it  is  ex- 
ceedingly rank  and  oily. 


RED-BREASTED  MERGANSER,  SHELDRAKE. 

Merganser  serrator  (Linn.). 

The  adult  male  has  the  head  greenish-black,  with 
some  metallic  reflections  of  violet  and  purple.  The 
crest  is  a  ragged  one,  chiefly  on  the  back  of  the  head ; 
the  feathers  are  irregular,  but  few  of  them  being  long. 
There  is  a  well-marked  white  collar  around  the  upper 
neck,  below  the  black.  The  lower  neck  and  breast  are 
pale  pinkish  brown,  streaked  with  black  from  above 
downward.  The  back  and  inner  scapulars  are  black ;  the 
lower  back  and  rump,  grayish,  waved  with  black  and 
white;  the  tail  grayish-brown.  The  wing  is  chiefly 
white,  crossed  by  two  black  bars.  The  primaries  are 
brownish-black,  and  the  outer  webs  of  the  inner  secon- 


RED-BREASTED   MERGANSER,  SHELDRAKE.     23 1 

daries  edged  with  the  same  color.  On  the  side  of  the 
breast,  in  front  of  the  bend  in  the  wing,  is  a  patch  of 
white  feathers,  margined  with  black.  The  sides  are 
barred  with  black  and  white,  and  the  rest  of  the  under 
parts  white.  The  bill,  eyes  and  feet  are  bright  red. 
Length  about  22  inches.  In  this  species  the  nostrils 
are  situated  near  to  the  base  of  the  bill,  whereas  in  the 
goosander  they  are  nearly  half  way  between  the  base 
and  tip  of  bill.  This  character  will  enable  the  observer 
to  distinguish  the  two. 

The  adult  female  has  the  top  of  the  head  and  crest 
reddish-brown;  the  sides  of  head  and  neck  somewhat 
paler,  fading  to  white  on  the  throat.  The  upper  parts 
are  dark  ashy-gray;  the  sides  almost  the  same,  but 
somewhat  paler.  There  is  a  white  patch  on  the  wing, 
divided  by  a  black  bar.  The  under  parts  are  white, 
often  with  a  pinkish  or  salmon  tinge  in  both  sexes,  but 
this  is  by  no  means  always  present.  The  bill,  legs  and 
feet  are  like  those  in  the  male,  but  perhaps  a  little 
duller. 

Like  the  goosander,  this  species  belongs  to  the 
Northern  Hemisphere  at  large,  and  is  found  in  Europe, 
China,  Japan  and  other  islands  of  the  Pacific.  Mr. 
Shepard  found  it  breeding  in  Iceland,  in  company 
with  Barrow's  golden-eye,  and  Old  World  observers 
generally  have  reported  it  as  abundant  in  the  North. 
It  occurs  regularly  as  a  resident  in  Greenland,  and,  of 
course,  in  North  America  is  quite  a  common  species. 
It  has  been  reported,  in  summer,  from  Alaska,  and 
from  Maine,  and  breeds  in  both  sections.     Mr.  Mac- 


2^2  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Farlane  found  it  also  breeding  on  the  Anderson  River, 
in  the  far  North.  The  nest  is  reported  to  be  closely 
similar  to  that  of  the  black  duck,  and  the  parent  often 
lines  it  with  down  plucked  from  her  breast. 

Like  the  preceding  species,  the  red-breasted  mergan- 
ser is  a  tough  and  hardy  bird,  well  fitted  to  endure  our 
northern  winters,  and  not  proceeding  southward  so 
long  as  there  are  any  open  waters  in  which  it  can  gain 
a  livelihood.  It  spends  much  of  its  time  on  the  salt 
water  and  associates  more  or  less  with  the  winter  sea- 
ducks  of  the  New  England  coast,  but  more  perhaps 
with  the  whistlers  than  with  others. 

The  red-breasted  merganser  feeds  altogether  on  fish, 
and  for  this  reason  has  no  value  whatever  as  a  table 
bird.  Mr.  D.  G.  Elliot,  in  his  excellent,  work  on  North 
American  Wild  Fowl,  gives  a  graphic  description  of 
their  fishing,  which  is  well  worth  reproducing.  He 
says :  *'When  engaged  in  fishing,  by  their  rapid  diving 
and  manoeuvring  beneath  the  w^aters,  they  cause  the 
small  fish — if  the  schools  are  of  any  size — to  become 
widely  scattered,  and  many  rise  close  to  the  surface. 
The  gulls  take  advantage  of  such  opportunities,  and 
pounce  upon  their  luckless  finny  prey  from  above,  and 
then,  with  ducks  diving  into  the  depths  and  gulls 
plunging  from  above,  the  scene  is  a  very  lively  one.  I 
remember  on  one  occasion  watching  a  number  of  this 
merganser  engaged  in  fishing  in  a  cove,  when  their 
movements  attracted  to  them  a  large  flock  of  Bona- 
parte^s  gull  (Larus  Philadelphia) ,  which  hovered  over 
the  ducks  for  a  moment  and  then  began  to  plunge  head 


RED-BREASTED  MERGANSER,  SHELDRAKE.     233 

foremost  into  the  water,  one  after  another,  in  rapid 
succession,  emerging,  frequently  with  a  small  fish  in 
the  bill  The  mergansers  paid  no  attention  to  their 
fellow-fishermen,  although  at  times  a  plunging  gull 
would  come  perilously  near  one  of  the  saw-billed  gen- 
try as  he  rose  from  the  depths;  and  what  with  the 
rising  and  disappearing  mergansers,  and  the  air  above 
them  filled  with  the  forms  of  the  darting  gulls,  execut- 
ing all  manner  of  swift  and  graceful  evolutions,  the 
scene  was  very  spirited  and  full  of  animation." 

The  red-breasted  merganser  is  swift  of  wing,  and  as 
might  be  imagined,  an  expert  diver.  It  frequently 
comes  in  very  gently  to  decoys,  dashing  along  at  great 
speed,  until  it  reaches  the  point  where  it  wishes  to 
alight,  and  then,  without  checking  its  flight,  throwing 
itself  breast  down  upon  the  water,  and  sliding  over  it 
for  some  distance.  After  alighting,  it  looks  about  for 
a  moment,  alternately  raising  and  depressing  its  crest, 
and  if  it  sees  nothing  to  alarm  it,  goes  to  work  fishing. 
There  is  no  reason  for  shooting  it,  as  it  is  worthless 
for  food. 

Among  the  common  names  applied  to  this  bird,  in 
different  sections  of  the  country,  are  sheldrake,  saw- 
bill,  fisherman,  pied  sheldrake,  shelduck  and  big  saw- 
bill. 


HOODED  MERGANSER. 


Lophodytes  cucullatus  (Linn.), 


Adult  male  has  the  head,  neck,  back  and  scapulars, 
bhcko  The  very  long  full  crest  is  pure  white,  mar- 
gined with  black.  The  wing-coverts  are  gray,  fading 
to  ash  color  behind,  and  the  greater  coverts  are  black 
at  the  base  and  tipped  with  white,  showing  a  distinct 
black  and  white  band  across  the  wing.  The  secon- 
daries are  white,  the  basal  portion  black,  which  gives 
the  efifect  of  two  wide  white  wing-bars,  bordered  in 
front  by  two  narrow  black  wing-bars.  In  front  of  the 
wing,  on  the  side  of  the  breast,  are  two  black  and  two 
white  bars,  crescent-shaped.  The  sides  and  flanks  are 
rusty-brown,  or  tawny,  growing  darker  toward  the 
tail,  and  crossed  by  fme,  black  lines.     The  under  parts 

234 


HOODED    MERGANSER.  235 

generally  are  white;  the  under  tail-coverts  streaked 
with  dusky.  The  bill  is  black,  eye  bright  yellow  and 
the  feet  yellowish.     Length  about  18  inches. 

In  the  female  the  head  and  crest  are  reddish-brown, 
and  the  upper  parts  are  grayish-brown.  The  chin  and 
throat  are  white;  the  flanks  grayish-brown.  There  is 
a  patch  on  the  wing,  white,  crossed  by  a  black  bar,  and 
the  under  parts  generally  are  white.  The  bill  is  yel- 
lowish, darkening  to  brown  on  the  margin  and  on  the 
nail. 

The  hooded  merganser  is  one  of  the  most  striking  of 
our  North  American  ducks.  It  is  exclusively  a  North 
American  species  and  occurs  in  Europe  only  as  a  strag- 
gler. Throughout  the  whole  of  North  America,  how- 
ever, it  is  generally  distributed,  and  seems  to  be  no  less 
abundant,  for  example,  in  Nebraska  than  it  is  on  the 
Atlantic  or  Pacific  coasts. 

The  hooded  merganser  breeds  over  much  of  the 
country,  in  suitable  localities.  Mr.  Boardman  has 
found  it  breeding  abundantly  in  Maine,  where  its  nests 
were  always  found  in  the  hollows  of  .trees,  the  cavity 
being  usually  lined  with  grass,  leaves  and  down.  He 
has  related  the  following  curious  incident  in  regard  to 
the  breeding  of  this  bird : 

"On  one  of  my  collecting  trips  my  attention  was 
called  by  the  log  drivers  to  a  singular  contest  between 
two  ducks — it  proved  to  be  a  female  wood  duck  and  a 
female  hooded  merganser — for  the  possession  of  a  hol- 
low tree.  Two  birds  had  been  observed  for  several 
days  contesting  for  the  nest,  neither  permitting  the 


236  DVCK    SHOOTING. 

Other  to  remain  in  peaceful  occupancy.  The  nest  was 
found  to  contain  eighteen  fresh  eggs,  of  which  one- 
third  belonged  to  the  merganser,  and  as  the  nest  was 
lined  with  the  down  of  the  merganser  it  appeared  prob- 
able this  bird  was  the  rightful  owner  of  the  premises." 

Mr.  Audubon  stated  that  the  hooded  merganser  bred 
in  Kentucky,  Ohio  and  Indiana ;  and  Dr.  Bachman  be- 
lieved that  it  breeds  in  South  Carolina.  It  certainly 
breeds  in  Florida.  During  its  migrations,  the  hairy- 
head,  as  it  is  often  called,  is  common  in  New  England, 
and  generally  all  along  the  coast,  at  least  as  far  as 
South  Carolina.  In  the  marshes  of  Currituck  Sound 
I  have  seen  them  in  great  numbers,  sometimes  in  flocks 
of  over  one  hundred  individuals. 

The  hooded  merganser  is  a  bird  of  exceedingly 
swift  flight,  and  may  often  be  taken  at  a  little  distance 
for  a  canvas-back  or  black-head,  as  it  flies  swiftly  to- 
ward one.  It  is  an  unsuspicious  bird,  coming  up  read- 
ily to  decoys,  striking  the  water  with  a  swift  rush  and, 
for  a  few  moments  after  alighting,  swimming  about 
alertly,  as  if  to  observe  its  surroundings.  Usually  it 
flies  with  great  directness,  and  is  not  easily  frightened 
into  changing  its  course.  The  hooded  merganser  is 
an  extremely  expert  swimmer  and  diver,  and  it  is  a 
beautiful  sight  to  watch  a  small  body  of  them,  as  one 
sometimes  may,  when  they  are  feeding  without  knowl- 
edge of  the  presence  of  an  enemy.  At  such  times  the 
startling  plumage  of  the  male  is  seen  to  very  great  ad- 
vantage, and  one  is  greatly  attracted  by  the  beauty  of 
his  plumage  and  the  grace  of  his  motions. 


HOODED    MERGANSER.  237 

This  bird  rejoices  in  a  variety  of  names,  of  which 
water-pheasant,  hairy-crown,  hairy-head,  saw-bill 
diver,  little  saw-bill,  swamp  sheldrake,  spike-bill  and 
cock-robin  are  the  most  familiar. 


The  smew,  Mergus  albellus,  was  reported  by  Audubon  to  have 
been  taken  in  Louisiana,  near  New  Orleans,  in  1817.  The  bird 
was  a  female.  Since  that  date  no  specimens  have  been  reported  as 
taken  within  the  United  States.  If  the  bird  ever  occurs  on  this 
continent  it  is  only  an  accidental  straggler.  It  is  perhaps  more 
likely  that  in  the  case  of  the  specimen  taken  by  Audubon  there  was 
some  mistake  of  identification.  However,  the  description  is  given 
here,  taken  from  Mr,  Ellict's  "Wild  Fowl":  "Adult  male,  general 
plumage,  white.  A  large  patch  at  base  of  the  bill,  including  the 
loresandeyes, lower  portion  of  nuchal  crest,  middle  of  the  back  and 
two  crescentic  narrow  lines  on  side  of  breast,  outer  edge  of  scapu- 
lars and  rump,  jet  black.  Upper  tail-coverts,  gray;  edges  lighter. 
Middle  wing-coverts,  white  ;  greater  coverts  and  secondaries,  black, 
tipped  with  white.  Primaries,  blackish-brown.  Tail,  dark  gray. 
Sides  and  flanks  undulated  with  fine  black  lines  on  a  gray  ground. 
Bill,  bluish ;  nail,  lighter.  Iris,  bluish  white.  Legs  and  feet,  bluish 
lead  color ;  webs,  darker.  Total  length,  about  16^  inches ;  wing, 
7  6-10;  culmen,  iJ4  ;  tarsus,  i^. 

"Adult  female. — Head  and  nape,  chestnut  brown ;  lores  and 
cheeks,  brownish  black.  Throat  and  sides  of  neck,  white.  Upper 
parts,  brownish-gray,  darkest  on  the  rump ;  some  feathers  on  back 
tipped  with  ashy  gray.  Sides  and  flanks,  brownish-gray.  Under 
parts,  ^yhite,     Tail,  brown-gray." 


PART  11, 


WILDFOWL    SHOOTING. 


WILDFOWL    SHOOTING. 


If  it  be  true,  as  has  often  been  said,  that  the  enjoy- 
ment taken  in  any  sport  is  proportioned  to  its  difficul- 
ties and  hardships,  then  we  may  readily  comprehend 
why  wildfowl  shooting  is  popular.  To  be  sure,. there 
are  other  reasons;  the  rewards  are  sometimes  great, 
and  though  no  description  of  shooting  is  more  uncer- 
tain than  this,  yet  as  man  is  a  hopeful  creature,  and  usu- 
ally believes  that  he  will  be  fortunate,  even  though  all 
his  fellows  are  unlucky,  men  continue  to  go  duck  shoot- 
ing, even  though  the  measure  of  success  with  which 
they  are  usually  rewarded  may  be  very  meagre.  One 
good  day,  or  one  successful  expedition,  will  long  re- 
main fresh  in  the  duck  shooter's  memory  and  will  lure 
him  on  to  make  trip  after  trip,  year  after  year,  in  the 
confident  hope  that  some  time  this  good  fortune  will 
come  to  him  again.  In  the  faith  that  his  success  will 
repeat  itself,  he  gladly  endures  cold,  hunger,  wet,  and 
even  danger,  over  and  over  again. 

As  the  finest  weather  for  duck  shooting  is  what  is 
usually  denominated  foul  weather — that  is  windy, 
cloudy,  or  rainy,  often  with  snow  squalls  and  a  tem- 
perature so  low  that  ice  forms — the  gunner  must 
always  go  prepared  to  suffer  some  discomfort.  If  his 
shooting  is  done  from  a  boat  and  in  a  place  where  the 


241 


242  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

wind  has  any  sweep  he  is  sure  to  get  wet  and  may 
even  be  swamped;  or  if  it  should  happen  that  he  guns 
m  a  locahty  where  there  are  wide  flats  which  may  be 
overlaid  by  a  skim  of  ice,  too  thick  to  be  pushed  through 
with  a  boat,  yet  hardly  strong  enough  to  bear  one's 
weight,  there  is  danger  of  a  wetting,  if  not  of  some- 
thing worse;  for  the  mud  is  deep  and  sticky,  and  he 
who  is  once  mired  in  it  will  escape  only  with  difficulty 
and  discomfort. 

In  old  times  it  was  taken  for  granted  that  the  duck 
shooter  should  be  uncomfortable,  but  of  late  years  we 
have  largely  changed  that.  The  older  gunners  who 
in  their  youth  thought  nothing  of  shivering  all  day  in 
a  thin  coat  under  the  icy  wind,  or  of  standing  for  hours 
waist  deep  in  the  water,  when  the  flight  was  on,  or  of 
lying  out  where  the  flying  spray  reached  them  and 
froze  as  it  touched  their  garments,  now  do  none  of 
these  things.  They  provide  themselves  with  thick, 
warm  clothing,  and  with  overgarments  of  rubber. 
They  take  lunches  with  them  and  sometimes  even  carry 
small  stoves  in  boat  or  blind  by  which  to  warm  their 
food  or  themselves  if  the  weather  becomes  too  bad. 

But  with  all  these  added  comforts  has  come  one  great 
drawback  which  outweighs  them  all ;  this  is  the  great 
scarcity  of  fowl.  In  old  times,  given  suitable  weather 
conditions,  duck  shooting  on  most  of  our  waters  was 
likely  to  be  successful.  Now,  even  with  the  best  of 
weather,  the  chances  are  against  success. 

In  the  pages  that  follow  I  have  endeavored,  by  means 
of  description  and  accounts  of  shooting  trips,  to  give  a 


WILDFO  WL     SHOOTING. 


243 


fairly  accurate  notion  of  most  of  the  methods  by  which 
ducks  are  killed  in  North  America.  These  methods 
vary  to  some  extent  with  the  different  localities  in 
which  they  are  practiced,  and  they  grade  into  one  an- 
other so  that  it  is  not  always  easy  to  draw  a  sharp  line 
between  two  methods  of  the  sport.  I  have  tried  to 
cover  the  whole  country  and  thus  to  make  the  volume 
of  interest  and  of  use  to  duck  shooters  wherever  they 
may  bt. 


SWAN  SHOOTING. 

Swan  shooting  can  hardly  be  characterized  as  ? 
sport,  for  the  few  swans  that  are  killed  are  shot  chiefly 
by  accident,  when  they  fly  over  points  where  gunners 
are  concealed  waiting  for  ducks,  or  at  times  when,  with 
the  geese,  they  come  up  to  goose  decoys.  Most  of 
those  killed  during  the  winter  are  secured  in  the  Chesa- 
peake Bay  and  on  Currituck  Sound,  where  they  winter 
in  considerable  numbers,  flocks  of  two  or  three  hundred 
sometimes  being  seen.  On  the  occasion  of  a  freeze, 
even  larger  numbers  gather  together,  looking,  as  they 
sit  along  the  marsh  or  in  the  air  holes,  like  great  drifts 
of  snow. 

Swans  are  sometimes  shot  when  standing  on  the 
shore  of  the  marshes ;  this  can  only  be  done  when  the 
wind  is  blowing  hard  on  the  shore.  Under  such  con- 
ditions the  gunner  is  sometimes  able  to  land  at  a  dis- 
tance from  the  bird,  and  to  creep  through  the  reeds, 
within  gunshot,  since  the  swan  cannot  hear  him  on  ac- 
count of  the  wind. 

Swans  decoy  readily,  and  occasionally  the  profes- 
sional gunners  have  a  few  wooden  swan  decoys  on  the 
house  boats  which  they  inhabit  and  in  which  they  move 
from  place  to  place,  but  nowhere,  so  far  as  I  am  aware, 
is  the  shooting  of  swans  made  a  business.  One  or  two 
of  the  ducking  clubs  on  Currituck  Sound  have  small 
stands  of  live  swan  decoys  which  have  been  captured 

244 


SIVAN     SHOOTING.  245 

from  time  to  time,  which  they  occasionally  tie  out  when 
they  go  to  shoot  geese,  but  on  the  whole  the  number 
of  swans  killed  each  year  is  very  small,  and  does  not 
nearly  equal  the  young  bred  each  season.  There  seems 
good  reason  for  believing,  therefore,  that  the  swans  are 
holding  their  own,  if  not  increasing,  and  in  many  of 
the  localities  where  they  pass  the  winter,  professional 
gunners  aver  that  the  swans  are  now  more  numerous 
than  they  were  in  old  times. 

Swans  do  not  dive,  but  bring  up  their  food  from  the 
bottom  by  reaching  down  with  their  long  necks  and 
tearing  off  the  grass  with  their  powerful  bills.  They 
are  wary  birds  and  not  easily  approached.  Sometimes 
they  sit  on  the  water  long  enough  for  a  boat  to  sail  up 
within  shot  of  them,  but  this  is  unusual.  They  rise 
from  the  water  slowly,  flying  a  long  way  before  they 
fairly  get  up  into  the  air,  paddling  with  their  great  feet, 
and  striking  the  water  with  the  tips  of  their  strong 
wings,  so  as  to  make  a  great  noise.  As  they  can  rise 
only  against  the  wind,  advantage  is  sometimes  taken 
of  this  fact  to  sail  down  on  them,  and  a  shot  may 
then  be  had.  When  changing  from  one  feeding 
ground  to  another,  or  from  the  feeding  to  the  roosting 
ground,  they  usually  fly  high,  provided  the  weather  is 
calm  and  bright;  but  if  the  wind  blows  hard,  or  it  is 
raining  or  snowing,  they  often  pass  along  within  easy 
gunshot  of  the  marsh,  and  it  is  on  such  occasions  that 
they  are  chiefly  killed.  Each  flock  usually  follows  the 
course  taken  by  its  predecessor,  and  if  the  gunner  hap- 
pens to  be  in  the  line  of  flight,  and  the  weather  condi- 


246  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

tions  are  propitious,  he  may  have  several  shots  during 
a  morning  or  an  afternoon.  I  recall  having  seen  one 
man,  a  number  of  years  ago,  pull  down  three  great 
swans  from  the  sky  just  as  the  sun  was  setting. 

The  note  of  the  common  swan  is  very  different  from 
that  of  his  western  relative.  It  is  a  plaintive,  rather 
high-pitched  call,  often  repeated,  and  can  be  fairly  well 
imitated  by  blowing  into  the  neck  of  a  wide-mouthed 
bottle.  On  the  principal  shooting  grounds  of  the 
South  the  boatmen  are  familiar  with  the  call-note  of 
the  swan,  and  imitate  it  faultlessly.  This  skill  often 
gives  the  gunner  an  opportunity  for  a  shot  which  he 
w^ould  not  otherwise  have. 

Mr.  D.  G.  Elliot,  in  his  admirable  work  on  the  ''Wild 
Fowl  of  North  America,"  has  this  to  say  about  the 
notes  uttered  by  the  wounded  swan :  'The  song  of  the 
dying  swan  has  been  the  theme  of  poets  for  centuries 
and  is  generally  considered  one  of  those  pleasing  myths 
that  are  handed  down  through  the  ages.  I  had  killed 
many  swans  and  never  heard  aught  from  them  at  any 
time,  save  the  familiar  notes  that  reached  the  ears  of 
everyone  in  their  vicinity;  but  once,  when  shooting  in 
Currituck  Sound  over  water  belonging  to  a  club  of 
which  I  am  a  member,  in  company  with  a  friend,  Mr. 
F.  W.Leggett,  of  New  York,  a  number  of  swans  passed 
over  us  at  a  considerable  height.  We  fired  at  them, 
and  one  splendid  bird  was  mortally  hurt.  On  re- 
ceiving his  wound  the  wings  became  fixed,  and  he  com- 
menced at  once  his  song,  which  was  continued  until  the 
water  was  reached,  nearly  half  a  mile  away.     I  am  per- 


SWAN     SHOOTING.  247 

fectly  familiar  with  every  note  a  swan  is  accustomed  to 
utter,  but  never  before  or  since  have  I  heard  any  Hke 
those  sung  by  this  stricken  bird.  Most  plaintive  in 
character  and  musical  in  tone,  it  sounded  at  times  like 
the  soft  running  of  the  notes  in  an  octave : 

"  'And  now  'twas  like  all  instruments, 
Now  like  a  lonely  flute; 
And  now  it  is  an  angel's  song 

Which  makes  the  heavens  be  mute,' 

and  as  the  sound  was  borne  to  us,  mellowed  by  the  dis- 
tance, we  stood  astonished  and  could  only  exclaim : 
*We  have  heard  the  song  of  the  dying  swan.'  " 

Occasionally,  if  a  cygnet  should  become  separated 
from  the  flock  with  which  it  has  been  feeding,  it  shows 
itself  very  gentle,  and  can  sometimes  be  called  up  to  a 
bunch  of  goose  or  even  of  duck  decoys.  I  have  seen 
this  happen,  the  bird  coming  in  close  to  the  water  and 
passing  over  the  decoys.  It  then  turned  and  flew  over 
them  once  again,  when  it  was  killed  by  the  gunner. 

A  wounded  swan  is  very  difficult  to  recover.  These 
birds  cannot  dive  effectively,  but  can  and  do  swim,  so 
as  to  lead  the  pursuing  boat  a  long  chase.  When  crip- 
pled, they  usually  swim  right  up  into  the  wind's  eye, 
and  as  they  can  swim  faster  than  a  boat  can  be  rowed, 
they  often  escape. 

The  cygnets  of  both  species  of  our  swans  are  gray, 
and  these  young  birds  should  always  be  chosen  when 
the  opportunity  for  a  shot  presents  itself.  Swan  shoot- 
ing, however,  as  already  remarked,  is  largely  a  matter 


248  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

of  accident,  and  while  I  have  known  of  ten  being  killed 
in  a  day,  at  a  goose  box,  I  have  also  known  of  whole 
seasons  to  elapse  without  a  single  shot  being  had  by 
men  who  were  devoting  themselves  to  duck  and  goose 
shooting. 

It  is  well  for  the  duck  shooter  to  carry  with  him, 
besides  the  cartridges  of  B  or  BB  shot,  with  which 
he  will  provide  himself,  on  the  chance  of  getting  a  shot 
at  a  flock  of  geese,  a  few  cartridges  of  T  or  OO  buck- 
shot, for  long  shots  at  swans. 

Although  swans  are  such  large  birds,  and  rise  with 
difficulty  from  the  water,  they  nevertheless  fly  with 
great  swiftness,  and  the  gunner  must  recollect  this,  and 
must  shoot  well  ahead  of  them.  If  the  swans  are  fly- 
ing against  the  wind,  he  should  aim  at  the  bird's  head, 
remembering  that  a  single  pellet  striking  a  swan  in  the 
neck  is  quite  as  likely  to  be  effective  in  bringing  it  down 
as  two  or  three  shots  which  may  strike  it  in  the  body. 
If,  however,  the  bird  is  flying  down  wind,  and  high  up 
in  the  air,  the  gun  should  be  held  somewhat  in  advance 
of  the  point  of  the  bill.  Allowance  must  always  be 
made  for  the  great  size  of  the  bird.  It  would  seem  to 
the  novice  as  if  a  mark  such  as  this  could  scarcely  be 
missed,  but  this  very  size  and  the  swiftness  of  the 
bird's  flight  are  likely  to  deceive. 

As  swans  are  usually  shot  overhead,  they  sometimes 
fall  almost  in  the  gunner's  blind,  or,  at  all  events,  very 
close  to  him.  It  is  an  impressive  sight  to  see  one  of 
these  great  birds,  struck  with  a  fatal  charge,  come  tum- 
bling to  the  earth.     Its  great  size,  its  broad  expanse  of 


SWAN     SHOOTING. 


249 


wing  and  its  long  neck  make  it  appear  even  larger  than 
it  really  is,  and  when  it  strikes  the  ground  it  does  so 
with  a  thud  which  seems  to  shake  the  marsh. 

I  once  killed  and  weighed  an  American  swan  which 
turned  the  scale  at  25  pounds;  how  much  larger  they 
may  grow,  I  do  not  know.  At  all  events,  they  are 
royal  birds. 


_  -   Mffliii^'X^ 


GOOSE  SHOOTING. 

The  wild  goose  has  long  been  proverbial  for  his  shy- 
ness and  wariness,  and  he  well  deserves  the  reputation 
that  he  has  gained,  and  yet  sometimes  he  is  found  to  be 
"as  silly  as  a  goose."  So  that  the  gunner  who  follows 
the  geese  enough  to  see  much  of  them,  will  find  that  at 
one  time  great  acuteness  and  at  another  a  singular  lack 
of  suspicion  are  present  in  the  ordinary  wild  goose. 
Few  birds  are  more  difficult  to  approach  than  these, 
and  yet  few  come  more  readily  to  decoys  or  are  more 
easily  lured  from  their  course  by  an  imitation  of  their 
cry. 

Constantly  pursued  for  food,  their  experience, 
almost  from  the  Qgg  shell,  has  taught  them  suspicion. 
On  the  breeding  grounds  in  the  North,  at  the  time  when 
the  young  geese  are  well  grown,  but  as  yet  unable  to 
fly,  great  numbers  are  killed  by  Indians  and  Eskimo, 
who,  assisted  by  their  dogs,  drive  the  birds  out  of  the 
shallow  pools  in  the  marshes,  where  they  dwell,  and 
spear  them  with  their  bone  tridents,  or  catch  them  in 
nets,  or  kill  them  with  sticks.  In  the  same  way  many 
of  the  adults  also  are  destroyed  during  the  molting 
season. 

Several  instances  have  occurred  where  swans  and 
geese — killed  by  gunners  in  the  United  States — still 
bore  in  their  bodies  evidences  of  having  been  wounded 
by  the  aborigines  of  the  far  North.    The  United  States 

250 


GOOSE    SHOOTING.  25 1 

National  Museum  has  a  number  of  examples  of  this 
kind,  where  the  birds*  bodies  have  been  pierced  by  long 
arrow  heads,  which  remained  in  the  wound  and  were 
covered  up  in  its  healing.  Many  years  ago  there  was 
figured  in  Forest  and  Stream  the  wing  of  a  swan  which 
still  bore,  lying  between  the  radius  and  ulna,  a  long 
copper  arrow  head,  which  must  have  been  shot  into  the 
bird  somewhere  in  the  far  Northwest.  The  old  wound 
had  healed,  and  the  bird  when  killed  was  in  good  con- 
dition. 

Notwithstanding  the  annual  destruction  by  the  na- 
tives, there  are  always  left  vast  numbers  of  geese  to 
take  their  flight  southward  at  the  approach  of  winter, 
but  when  they  reach  the  northern  confines  of  the  United 
States  they  find  awaiting  them  a  horde  of  gunners  bent 
on  their  destruction. 


ON  THE  STUBBLES. 

In  the  interior,  and  especially  on  the  high  plains  of 
the  wheat-producing  belt  of  Manitoba,  the  Dakotas 
and  Nebraska,  geese  are  shot  in  two  principal  ways. 

Of  these,  the  more  common  is  shooting  them  in  the 
grain  fields  from  which  the  crops  have  been  harvested, 
to  which  the  birds  resort  for  food.  They  pass  the  night 
in  lakes  or  rivers,  not  far  from  the  feeding  ground, 
and  in  the  early  morning  take  their  flight  to  the  stub- 
bles, there  to  feed  during  the  day.  The  gunners  pre- 
pare as  blinds,  or  places  of  concealment,  pits  dug  in  the 


252  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

fields,  the  earth  being  carried  away  to  some  distance 
and  scattered  over  the  ground,  so  that  there  shall  be  no 
fresh  soil  exposed  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  flocks 
and  render  them  suspicious.  About  the  pits  are  set  up 
the  decoys,  which  usually  consist  of  sheet-iron  profiles 
of  geese,  on  sharp-pointed  iron  standards  implanted 
in  the  ground,  so  that  when  seen  from  the  direction 
from  which  the  birds  are  coming,  they  look  like  a  flock 
of  geese  standing  on  the  ground.  On  these,  and  on  his 
power  of  calling,  the  gunner,  hidden  in  the  pit,  de- 
pends. 

He  is  in  his  blind  by  daylight,  and  soon  after  this 
the  flight  begins.  If  he  has  had  time  to  study  the  habits 
of  the  birds,  his  blind  is  placed  directly  in  the  line  of 
flight,  between  the  roosting  and  the  feeding  ground, 
and  his  decoys  are  likely  to  call  down  to  within  gun- 
shot many  of  the  passing  flocks.  Sometimes,  if  two  or 
three  men  are  shooting  together,  they  will  dig  their  pits 
about  a  gun-shot  apart,  and  at  right  angles  to  the  line 
of  the  birds'  flight.  In  such  a  case  they  plant  their  de- 
coys midway  betw^een  the  pits,  with  the  result  that  the 
flocks  which  come  down  to  them  are  likely  to  offer  shots 
to  the  occupants  of  the  two  pits  between  which  they 
fly. 

While  most  of  the  birds  killed  are  likely  to  fall  at 
once,  there  will  still  be  many  which,  struck  by  one  or 
two  pellets,  or  hit  too  far  behind,  will  carry  off  the 
shot,  and,  gradually  lowering  their  flight,  will  come  to 
the  ground  a  long  way  from  the  pit.  It  is  important, 
therefore,  that  each  flock  shot  at  should  be  watched  as 


GOOSE    SHOOTING.  2S3 

it  goes  away,  in  order  that  birds  hard  hit,  but  still  able 
to  proceed  for  some  distance,  may  be  seen  to  separate 
themselves  from  the  flock  and  to  come  down.  Unless 
very  carefully  marked,  such  birds  are  likely  to  be  lost  to 
the  gunner,  unless  he  is  provided  with  a  dog. 

At  every  lull  in  the  flight,  it  is  the  practice  to  leave 
the  pit  and  go  out  to  gather  the  dead  geese ;  and  toward 
the  middle  of  the  day,  when  the  morning  flight  has 
ceased,  the  more  distant  ground  should  be  carefully 
looked  over  by  the  gunner,  and,  if  practicable,  systemat- 
ically hunted  out  with  a  dog.  The  result  of  this  search 
will  often  add  largely  to  the  bag. 

Sometimes,  instead  of  digging  pits  in  the  stubble 
fields,  the  gunners  conceal  themselves  in  the  straw 
stacks  which  may  still  be  standing  in  the  field,  and  do 
their  shooting  from  them.  The  straw  stacks  having 
been  there  before  the  geese  came  in  the  fall,  are  familiar 
objects  to  the  birds,  and  cause  them  no  alarm.  Often 
they  pass  close  over  them  or  feed  on  the  ground  near 
them.  Where  these  stacks  are  used  for  hiding  places, 
the  decoys  are  scattered  around  them  in  the  most  con- 
venient situation. 

It  is  not  common  for  the  passing  flocks  to  alight  with 
the  decoys  in  the  stubble  fields ;  usually  by  the  time  that 
the  birds  have  approached  close  to  them,  the  decoys 
are  recognized  as  deceptions,  and  the  flock  turns  off. 

Goose  shooting  in  the  wheat  stubbles  is  also  practiced 
in  parts  of  Washington.  Pits  are  dug  and  decoys  put 
out,  just  as  in  the  stubbles  of  Dakota  and  Nebraska,  and 
the  birds  come  readily  to  the  decoys. 


254  DUCK    SHOOTING. 


ON  THE  SAND-BARS. 

Sand-bar  shooting,  which  was  formerly  practiced 
with  great  success  on  some  of  the  larger  rivers  of  the 
West,  especially  on  the  Platte,  is  somewhat  similar  in 
character  to  the  shooting  on  the  feeding  grounds,  ex- 
cept that  it  takes  place  early  in  the  morning  and  late  in 
the  afternoon,  when  the  birds  come  to  the  river  to  drink, 
as  well  as  to  provide  themselves  with  the  sand  and 
gravel  which  are  as  necessary  to  them  as  food.  The 
blind  may  be  a  hole  dug  in  the  sand-bar,  or  perhaps  a 
pile  of  drift-wood  and  trash,  in  which  the  gunner  con- 
ceals himsel'f.  The  decoys  are  similar  to  those  used  in 
stubble  shooting,  and  are  placed  between  the  water  and 
the  blind.  The  birds  usually  come  in  each  day  at  about 
the  same  hour,  and  so  regular  are  their  habits  that  one 
familiar  with  a  locality  could  almost  set  his  watch  by 
their  arrival.  In  this  shooting  the  birds  are  much  more 
disposed  to  come  to  the  decoys  than  in  stubble  shooting, 
and  often  appear  to  wish  to  alight  with  them. 

The  birds  commonly  killed  in  this  form  of  shooting 
are  the  Canada  goose,  Hutchins's  goose,  the  white- 
fronted  goose,  or  prairie  brant,  the  blue  goose  and  the 
snow  goose. 

If  the  geese  are  no  longer  killed  on  the  Platte  River 
in  their  old  numbers,  they  have  not  altogether  deserted 
that  stream  in  their  southern  journey.  They  still  resort 
to  it,  but  overshooting  has  taught  them  caution,  and 
the  methods  by  which  they  are  killed  have   wholly 


;■}>: 


A  GOLDEN-EYE  NESTING  PLACE. 
Photographed  by  Wm.  Brewster.    (See  p.  176.) 


GOOSE    SHOOTING.  255 

changed.  At  the  present  time  they  go  into  the  river 
late,  pay  no  attention  whatever  to  decoys,  and  have  be- 
come so  wary  that  shooting  them  on  the  sand-bars  is 
hardly  attempted.  When  they  rise  they  no  longer  circle 
about,  but  at  once  get  up  in  the  air  a^  high  as  possible, 
keeping  directly  over  the  middle  of  the  river,  and  so 
usually  out  of  shot  of  concealed  gunners.  Many  and 
bitter  have  been  the  complaints  of  late  years  by  the  men 
who  used  to  go  goose  shooting  to  this  famous  ground, 
but  the  birds  have  learned  their  lesson  well,  and  it  may 
be  doubted  if  sand-bar  shooting  will  ever  again  be  prac- 
ticed on  the  Platte  with  any  great  degree  of  success. 

The  geese  now  killed  in  the  vicinity  of  that  river  are 
secured  chiefly  by  stubble  shooting,  much  as  they  are 
captured  in  Dakota,  and  a  recent  account  of  these  meth- 
ods is  given  in  the  following  article  contributed  to 
For  est. and  Stream  in  1899,  ^7  ^  writer  who  signs  him- 
self "Invisible."     He  says: 

Readers  who  have  been  there  need  not  be  told  of  the 
past  glories  of  duck  and  goose  shooting  on  the  wide- 
flowing  Platte  in  Nebraska,  but  to  those  who  have  not 
hunted  on  the  once  famous  river,  a  description  of  the 
stream,  the  country  and  the  methods  employed  to  bag 
the  wary  honkers  may  be  interesting. 

The  Platte  is  a  shallow,  wide  stream  from  one-half 
mile  to  one  mile  wide  in  some  places,  and  the  bottom  is 
entirely  of  sand.  In  late  April  and  in  May  and  June  it 
rises  or  gets  on  a  ''boom,"  as  it  is  generally  called.  Then 
the  water  is  from  three  to  six  feet  deep  in  all  the  main 
part  of  the  river,  and  in  the  main  channel  from  ten  to 


256  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

even  fifteen  feet  in  some  particular  places.  A  beautiful 
valley,  smooth  and  level  as  a  floor,  stretches  away  for 
miles  from  both  sides  in  some  places,  and  in  others  only 
on  one  side,  when  the  high  bluffs  come  up  to  the  bank. 
Beyond  this  level  valley  are  the  high  lands,  irregular 
lines  of  sand  bluffs,  and  on  the  high  table-land  beyond 
is  the  feeding  ground  of  the  great  army  of  geese  and 
ducks  that  frequent  the  Platte  every  spring  and  some- 
times in  the  fall.  Geese  and  ducks  are  not  as  plentiful 
here  now  as  years  ago;  while  there  are  a  good  many 
birds  here  every  favorable  spring,  there  is  not  one  to 
the  fifty  there  used  to  be  in  years  gone  by.  Ten  and 
fifteen  years  ago  fifteen  to  twenty  geese  were  a  common 
thing  for  one  man  to  kill  in  one  day,  or  even  in  a  half 
day's  hunt.  A  friend  claimed  to  have  killed  fifty-two 
geese  one  afternoon  from  2  o'clock  to  sundown,  and  no 
one  who  knows  the  man  or  the  numbers  of  birds  doubts 
the  claim.  But  these  are  past  supplies,  never  to  be  seen 
on  the  Platte  again.  At  the  present  time  on  stormy 
days,  if  a  hunter  is  in  a  good  place,  he  may  be  able  to 
bag  in  the  course  of  a  day  ten,  or  maybe  fifteen  or 
twenty,  geese,  and  as  many  ducks.  But  these  days  and 
chances  are,  indeed,  very  rare.  Very  much  oftener  the 
hamter  comes  in  with  one  goose  and  a  few  ducks,  or  if  it 
be  a  bad  day  he  comes  in  empty-handed. 

I  live  within  one  day's  drive  of  the  river,  and  in  the 
spring  a  party  of  four  or  five  go  to  the  old  Platte  for  a 
two  or  three  weeks'  hunt  and  a  general  good  time. 
Landing  at  the  river  about  4  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
after  a  good  drive  of  thirty-five  miles,  we  are  made  wel- 


GOOSE    SHOOTING,  '        257 

come  by  an  old  friend  who  lives  about  forty  rods  from 
the  river;  we  put  up  our  team  and  then  commence  to 
pitch  tent,  for  we  come  prepared  to  camp  out.  While 
working  around  camp  we  see  long  strings  of  ducks  and 
geese  come  sailing  leisurely  in  from  their  feeding 
grounds  out  on  the  bluffs  and  in  the  valley;  old-time 
memories  are  revived,  and  we  all  work  with  a  vim  to 
get  the  tent  up  and  banked  and  ditched  around;  we 
carry  hay  to  make  our  bed,  and  then  get  supper.  When 
this  is  all  done  it  is  too  late  to  do  any  shooting.  Shells 
are  gotten  out,  guns  are  examined,  hunting  suits  are 
laid  out  handy,  and  everything  is  put  in  readiness  for 
an  early  start  in  the  morning.  While  all  this  was  going 
on,  ducks  and  geese  have  been  alighting  in  the  river, 
and  several  hundred  geese  are  out  on  the  sand-bars, 
making  merry  music  for  our  ears.  The  musical  honk- 
a-honk  is  heard  after  it  gets  dark,  as  some  tardy  mem- 
bers come  in  to  their  roost  on  the  sand-bars. 

We  go  to  bed  with  the  intention  of  having  goose  for 
dinner  next  day  if  Dame  Fortune  shall  see  fit  to  send  a 
flock  our  way.  We  all  arise  next  morning  before  day- 
light, eat  a  hasty  breakfast,  don  dead  grass  color  suits, 
and,  with  a  dozen  decoys  each  and  a  gun,  sally  forth, 
going  out  where  we  know  they  feed  in  a  corn  or 
wheat  field.  Arriving  at  the  field,  w^e  dig'  a  pit,  place 
the  loose  dirt  where  it  won't  be  conspicuous,  then  put 
out  the  decoys,  and  settle  ourselves  comfortably  and 
await  the  coming  of  a  flock  of  honkers,  or  perhaps 
ducks.  We  are  in  sight  of  the  rim,  and  pretty  soon  we 
see  some  rise  up  and  start  for  the  feeding  grounds.   We 


258  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

watch  every  movement  made  by  the  flock.  They  rise 
high  up  as  they  clear  the  river  bank  and  head  directly 
for  us.  We  crouch  low  in  the  blind  with  guns  in  readi- 
ness, and  goose-call  to  our  lips.  They  don't  see  the 
decoys,  for  it  is  not  very  light  yet.  As  they  come  nearer 
they  come  down  a  trifle ;  yes,  they  see  the  decoys.  The 
leader  sets  his  wings  and  drops  below  the  others,  and 
they  sail  gracefully  for  the  decoys.  But,  alas!  they 
turn,  about  the  time  we  are  sure  we  have  a  shot,  and  by 
a  graceful  sweep  go  by  to  one  side  out  of  range,  and 
alight  just  back  of  us  about  150  yards. 

However,  we  settle  down  as  we  see  another  flock  get 
up  out  of  the  river.  They  go  up  and  start  out  on  the 
same  line  with  the  other  flock.  They  head  directly  for 
the  other  flock  on  the  ground  behind  me,  and,  reassured 
by  seeing  the  others  there,  they  drop  down  within  40 
yards  of  the  ground,  and  come  almost  directly  over  me. 
I  rise  with  gun  in  hand,  four  reports  in  quick  succession, 
and  three  noble  Canada  geese  fall  to  the  ground;  and 
one  other  starts,  then  rises  and  starts  on,  but  one  more 
shot  and  he  comes  tumbling  down  to  earth.  The  fun 
has  started  in  earnest.  The  geese  come  out  in  small 
flocks,  and  the  guns  are  booming  in  every  direction.  In 
two  hours  the  flight  has  ceased,  and  we  gather  up  our 
geese  and  decoys  and  start  for  camp.  We  sum  up  at 
camp:  four  guns  have  bagged  eleven  geese  and  five 
ducks  in  the  two  hours'  shoot. 

The  next  day  the  wind  blows  hard  from  the  north, 
and  snow  is  falling  in  large  flakes.  It  is  cold;  but  we 
start  out  to  try  our  luck  about  2  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 


GOOSE    SHOOTING.  259 

We  separate  and  take  up  position  in  the  willow  thickets 
that  abound  along  the  river  bank.  With  the  river  on 
the  north  of  us,  feeding  grounds  are  a  great  deal  closer 
on  the  south  side,  so,  contrary  to  their-  regular  habits, 
the  birds  come  out  with  the  wind,  and  come  back  flying 
low,  but  with  no  good  results ;  so  I  concluded  to  get  in 
a  good  sheltered  place  and  wait  for  some  to  come  over, 
if  I  had  to  wait  all  day.  They  flew  on  all  sides,  ducks 
and  geese  both,  some  barely  clearing  the  ground.  Just 
to  the  south  of  me  was  open  ground  for  about  200 
yards,  then  a  high  bluft'  with  some  trees  growing  on 
the  sides  and  rising  above  the  table  land  above.  My 
patience  was  nearly  exhausted,  when  just  behind  these 
trees  came  a  flock  of  mallards.  I  did  not  see  them  till 
they  rose  to  clear  these  trees.  As  I  stood  in  a  thick 
stand  of  willows,  they  never  saw  me,  but  came  on  just  a 
little  to  my  left  about  40  yards  high.  They- looked  big 
and  grand.  I  could  distinguish  all  their  fine  colorings 
as  they  came  closer.  I  rose  up  and  made  a  double  on 
two  fine  drakes  that  were  nearest  to  me.  Having  re- 
trieved these,  I  had  not  long  to  wait  before  a  lone  pin- 
tail came  along,  and  I  had  a  fine  shot  at  him.  Shooting 
was  good  until  dark.  I  bagged  seventeen  ducks  and 
one  brant.  One  of  the  other  boys  got  sixteen  ducks, 
and  the  others  all  had  a  respectable  bag  of  ducks. 

We  had  another  stormy  day  while  on  this  trip,  and 
these  two  days  were  my  best,  in  fact  the  only  days  when 
we  bagged  very  many  ducks.  We  got  geese  almost 
every  morning  and  evening  until  our  return  home. 

Ducks  do  not  seem  to  decoy  on  the  feeding  grounds 


26o  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

here,  but  on  some  ponds  of  still  water  they  decoy  splen- 
didly, and  good  bags  may  be  made  on  any  decent  day. 

After  the  geese  had,  in  large  measure,  been  driven 
away  from  the  Rlatte,  good  shooting  was  had  on  the 
Arkansas  River.  The  method  of  gunning  on  this 
stream  was  to  choose  an  island  as  near  the  centre  of 
the  river  as  possible,  where  there  was  a  good  sand-bar 
for  decoys,  within  thirty  or  forty  yards  of  the  island, 
and  to  dig  a  pit  and  shoot  the  geese  as  they  came  in  to 
the  decoys.  Often  the  shooting  was  very  good  here, 
and  frequently  the  bag  was  a  mixed  one,  for  ducks  fre- 
quently came  up  within  shot,  lured  by  the  goose  decoys. 
In  this  shooting,  bags  of  from  25  to  40  geese  and  15  to 
20  ducks  were  often  made. 


WITH  LIVE  DECOYS. 

Except  in  a  few  places  in  the  East,  goose  shooting  is 
hardly  at  all  practiced,  and  to  the  gunner  of  the  north- 
east coast  a  goose  is  the  greatest  of  all  feathered  game. 
By  accident  a  few  are  killed  every  year  at  various  points 
on  the  New  England  coast,  but  at  one  or  two  places  in 
Massachusetts,  and  from  Maryland  southward,  many 
geese  are  killed  annually. 

In  these  localities  it  is  desirable  and  almost  necessary, 
however,  to  use  live  goose  decoys.  These  are  set  out 
within  gun-shot  of  the  blind,  and  their  movements  and 
vociferous  calling  lure  down  theif  wild  relatives,  which 


GOOSE    SHOOTING,  261 

often  alight  among  them,  and  begin  to  fight  or  to  play 
with  them. 

In  the  South  the  most  common-  method  is  to  have  a 
water-tight  box  built  on  some  shoal,  or  at  the  edge  of 
some  sandy  beach,  in  a  place  where  the  geese  are  ac- 
customed to  congregate.  Such  a  box  is  commonly  four 
feet  deep,  and  is,  of  course,  open  at  the  top.  Usually  it 
is  large  enough  for  two  men,  who  are  provided  with  a 
seat,  and  with  a  shelf  in  front,  on  which  they  can  place 
ammunition.  A  fringe  of  grass  or  bushes  is  tacked 
about  the  edge  of  the  box,  projecting  only  six  or  eight 
inches  above  it,  through  which  the  occupants  can  watch 
the  geese  as  they  draw  near. 

On  a  good  goosing  day,  long  before  it  is  light,  the 
men  go  into  the  goose-pen  and  capture  the  live  decoys, 
which  are  placed  in  coops,  each  one  large  enough  to 
hold  two  or  three  birds.  The  coops  are  then  trans- 
ported to  the  boat,  if  the  journey  to  the  box  is  to  be 
made  by  water,  or  are  put  in  the  wagon,  if  the  box  is 
close  to  the  shore.  The  goose  stools,  on  which  the 
tethered  birds  are  to  stand,  are  put  in  the  boat ;  then 
the  gunners,  with  their  arms  and  ammunition,  enter  it, 
and  the  start  is  made  for  the  box.  If  it  should  happen 
that  the  box  has  not  been  used  for  a  long  time,  or  if  the 
previous  day  was  stormy,  with  a  high  sea,  the  box  may 
be  found  to  be  full  of  water,  in  which  case  it  must,  of 
course,  be  bailed  out.  The  gunners,  with  their  arms, 
ammunition  and  lunch,  take  their  places  in  it,  and  the 
men  go  off  to  leeward  to  set  out  the  decoys.  Usually 
the  water  is  so  shoal  that  they  can  wade  about  in  it 


262  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

without  going  over  the  tops  of  their  high  rubber  boots. 
If  it  is  deeper  than  this,  the  chances  are  against  much 
shooting,  for  the  wild  geese  are  pretty  well  informed 
as  to  the  depth  of  the  water,  and  if  it  is  too  deep  for 
them  to  feed  they  are  not  likely  to  alight.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  water  must  be  deep  enough  for  them  to  swim 
easily. 

The  number  of  decoys  put  out  is  usually  not  less  than 
six,  nor  more  than  fifteen.  Whatever  the  number, 
the  geese  are  set  out  in  the  form  of  a  V,  the  angle 
being  toward  the  box.  Each  goose  is  provided  with  a 
stool,  which  consists  of  a  sharp-pointed  stake,  four  feet 
long,  sharpened  at  the  end,  and  topped  with  a  round  or 
oval  piece  of  board,  eight  or  ten  inches  across.  When 
the  sharp  end  of  the  stake  is  firmly  implanted  in  the 
mud  of  the  bottom,  the  board  table  should  be  two  inches 
under  water.  Immediately  below  the  table  there  is 
fastened  to  the  stake  a  slender  leather  strap,  from  three 
to  four  feet  long,  terminating  in  two  branches,  each  of 
which  has  at  its  end  a  running  noose,  which  is  put 
around  the  goose's  leg  and  drawn  up  snug,  yet  not  too 
tight.  As  each  stool  is  planted  in  the  m_ud,  the  man 
who  tends  it  goes  to  the  boat,  takes  a  goose  from  the 
coop,  fastens  it  by  both  legs  to  the  strap,  and  throws  it 
on  the  water.  As  soon  as  the  bird  has  been  put  out  it 
begins  to  bathe,  and  for  a  time  is  busily  engaged  in 
ducking,  shaking  itself  and  swimming  about,  so  far  as 
its  strap  v/ill  permit.  After  it  tires  of  this,  it  is  likely 
to  swim  up  to  the  table,  climb  on  it  and  stand  there 
preening  itself.     The  best  caller  among  the  decoys  is 


GOOSE    SHOOTING.  263 

usually  put  at  one  end  of  one  of  the  lines  or  off  to  one 
side,  and  the  goose  to  which  this  gander  is  particularly 
attached  at  the  other  end.  After  the  decoys  are  tied 
out,  the  men  go  away  and  hide  their  boat,  and  then  take 
a  position  on  the  shore,  as  near  as  possible  to  the  blind, 
where  they  can  watch  everything  that  is  done. 

If  the  w^eather  is  right  for  goosing,  it  is  usually  not 
long  before  a  flock  of  the  birds  are  seen  coming.  The 
decoys  are  likely  to  recognize  them  as  soon  as  any  one, 
and  as  soon  as  they  see  them  they  begin  to  call.  If  the 
decoys  are  properly  set,  the  approaching  geese  will 
answer,  and  will  usually  lower  their  flight  and  prepare 
to  alight  with  them.  It  is  a  common  practice  to  allow 
them  to  do  this,  and  then  to  fire  one  barrel  at  the  birds 
on  the  water  and  another  as  they  rise.  If  they  swim  up 
to  the  decoys  in  a  long  line,  as  they  often  do,  the  gun- 
ners, by  aiming  at  their  heads  and  necks,  may  often  kill 
a  large  number  on  the  water,  and  then,  shooting  with 
judgment,  as  the  birds  begin  to  rise,  may  get  a  number 
more.  By  this  means,  in  favorable  localities,  more  than 
a  hundred  geese  are  sometimes  killed  in  a  day,  and  not 
infrequently,  with  the  geese,  a  number  of  swans  may  be 
taken,  since  the  swans  resort  to  the  same  feeding  and 
roosting  grounds  that  the  geese  occupy. 

There  is  little  to  be  said  in  praise  of  the  altogether 
common  practice  of  allowing  geese  to  alight  and  shoot- 
ing them  on  the  water.  It,  of  course,  largely  increases 
the  count,  which,  in  fact,  is  what  many  men  shoot  for, 
but  there  is  certainly  little  satisfaction  to  be  derived 
from  killing  with  the  shot-gun  on  the  water  a  bird  as 


264  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

large  as  a  goose,  and  the  better  sentiment  of  the  best 
class  of  gunners  will  favor  shooting  at  the  geese  as  they 
are  about  to  alight,  and  then  giving  them  the  other  bar- 
rels as  they  go  away. 

While  much  of  the  goose  shooting  on  the  South  At- 
lantic coast  is  done  from  boxes  planted  on  the  shoals  or 
the  beach,  it  is  sometimes  done  from  sand-bars,  locally 
called  "lumps,"  in  which  pits  are  dug  and  these  sur- 
rounded with  a  fringe  of  bushes  or  sedge.  Shooting 
from  such  a  shelter  with  a  stand  of  live  decoys  is  de- 
scribed by  Mr.  E.  J.  Myers  in  Forest  and  Stream  in  the 
following  words : 

Into  the  blind,  because  the  skiff  has  already  faded 
out  of  sight  in  the  gray  mist,  and  amid  noisy  splashing 
and  w^ashing  one  old  gander  is  already  stretching  his 
long  neck  and  straining  the  leather  thong  which  ties 
him  to  the  stake  driven  in  the  shallows  out  of  sight. 
Out  of  the  duskiness  and  gray  shadows  come  muffled 
sounds  as  of  the  heavy  wing  strokes  of  the  flying  geese, 
that  resolve  into  nothing  as  we  settle  ourselves  down  to 
patiently  wait.  Brighter  grows  the  daylight  from  be- 
hind the  sandy  ridges  dividing  the  ocean  from  the 
sound,  and  the  great  bars  shooting  to  the  zenith  light 
the  watery  waste  into  vermilion  and  carminated  blood, 
and,  a  glowing  red  ball  of  fire,  up  comes  the  sun.  In- 
voluntarily made  a  sun  worshiper,  I  rise;  when  Hay- 
man  roughly  pulls  me  down,  and  points  with  gun  bar- 
rels directly  at  the  sun  just  suspended  over  the  rim  of 
the  horizon.  Lo !  there,  as  if  they  were  issuing  from  its 
glowing,  incandescent  mass,  a  V^-shaped  dotted  line  is 


GOOSE    SHOOTING.  265 

spread  across  its  face — the  apex  in  its  heart  and  the 
ends  reaching  far  out.  'They  are  coming  this  way. 
How  swiftly  they  fly !  Are  they  high  or  low  ?"  But  the 
old  gunner  says  not  a  word,  as  if  miles  away  they  could 
hear  the  hoarse  whisper,  and  lets  his  hand  weigh  heavily 
on  my  shoulder  for  utter  silence.  On  they  come,  nearer 
and  nearer ;  but,  oh !  how  high.  No  use,  they  are  too 
high  even  for  the  lo-gauge ;  but  hear  that  old  renegade 
decoy  gander  honk-honk  as  he  tries  to  lure  his  wild 
brethren  to  their  death — the  only  thing,  I  suppose,  the 
white  man  taught  him.  From  above  the  leader  echoes 
honk-honk,  and  we  are  afraid  to  move ;  but  they  go  on, 
and  I  stare  at  Hayman,  who  mutters,  ''Too  high,"  and 
peers  between  the  brush  of  the  blind  as  time  goes  on. 

"See  there!"  But  my  eyes  detect  nothing  across 
the  stretch  of  waters.  "Low  down  on  the  water,  com- 
ing from  the  lighthouse."  "Too  much  for  my  eyes," 
I  am  about  to  say,  when  I  see  the  whirling  forms  just 
over  the  water,  coming  directly  toward  us.  *'Aye,  they 
will  light,"  as  the  whole  twenty  decoys  begin  to  flutter 
and  honk-honk,  and  then  the  heart  stops  beating  and 
the  breath  bates  as  the  geese  alight  and  begin  swim- 
ming toward  the  decoys. 

"Mark" — "fire" — three  wild  geese  float  on  the  water. 
Up  and  at  them — the  second  barrels  bark  and  another 
goose  falls  as  the  others  wing  away. 

Out  on  the  sand,  Hayman  takes  some  twigs  and 
fixes  the  dead  geese  as  if  they  were  sitting  on  the  sand 
— to  me  they  look  just  as  if  they  were  alive,  sitting 
upon  the  nest. 


266  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

"Great  Jupiter !  look  at  that,  Hayman."  For  across 
the  heavens,  line  after  line,  reaching  from  the  easterly 
horizon  to  its  westerly  rim,  came  successive  flocks  as 
we  crouched  low  down  in  the  blind.  Countless  myriads 
moving-  onward,  and  then  Hayman's  hand  fell  heavily 
on  my  shoulder,  backing,  forcing  me  lower  to  the  sandy 
floon  Far  over  our  heads  a  flock  was  circling — sailing 
around  and  around,  answering  with  noisy  greetings 
the  honk-honk  of  the  captive  renegades  luring  them  to 
their  doom — noisy  converse  between  the  clouds  and 
the  sand.  Lower  and  lower  they  come,  and  just  as  they 
are  about  to  light  something  frightens  them,  and  then 
up  rises  Hayman ;  and  I,  needing  no  prompting,  let  the 
iron  dogs  bark  for  two  that  came  tumbling  almost  in  the 
box.  A  third  one  tumbled  on  the  water  and  began  flut- 
tering away.  Hayman  sprang  into  the  water  and  put 
two  shots  into  it  before  he  got  the  goose,  nearly  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  away.  Away  went  the  others,  and  then, 
"See,  that  one  is  badly  hurt,"  said  Hayman,  as  one  bird 
seemed  to  be  sinking  slowly  from  the  flock,  flying  away 
off  in  the  distance.  Lower,  at  first,  three  or  four  geese 
seemed  to  stick  to  the  wounded  one;  but  as  he  sank 
lower,  the  others  went  back  to  the  flock,  and  the  doomed 
one  sank  lower  and  lower,  falling  slowly  to  the  sound, 
the  life-blood  ebbing  away — badly,  maybe  fatally  hurt, 
too  far  for  us  to  get  it.  Deserted,  abandoned  and  left 
to  die. 

So  we  went  on  until  we  had  twelve  before  noon, 
and  then  the  largest  flock  of  the  day  settles  about  600 
yards  away  on  the  shoals,  the  water  barely  high  enough 


GOOSE    SHOOTING,  267 

to  reach  their  breasts.  The  decoys  honked  to  them  in 
vain,  and  then  I  rose  them  with  the  Winchester  and  got 
one  straggler  going  low  as  they  flew  over  our  heads. 
More  real  enjoyment  in  that  one  feat  than  in  anything 
that  happened  that  day. 

So  the  hours  waned  and  the  day  went  by,  and  about 
4  o'clock  the  signal,  four  shots,  brought  Bobby  with  the 
coops  to  the  lump  to  take  us  back.  We  were  all  out  of 
the  blind  on  the  lump  with  half  the  decoys  in  the  box 
when  a  flock  came  right  at  us.  Hayman  and  I  sprang 
down  in  the  blind  and  grasped  the  guns,  while  Bobby 
crouched  behind  the  coop  and  squeezed  the  old  rene- 
gade decoy  gander  until  he  honked  as  never  honked  he 
before.  I  named  him  Simon  Gerty,  after  the  old  white 
renegade  on  the  Ohio,  who  in  the  dime  novels  figured 
with  Daniel  Boone. 

Heard  one  ever  the  yarn  before,  that  the  geese  came 
and  settled  down  among  the  decoys  with  coop  and  boy 
on  the  lump  ?  Bobby's  shrill  voice,  wild  with  eager  im- 
patience, "kill  'um,"  spoiled  the  intended  slaughter,  but 
we  got  two,  making  fifteen  geese. 

Sport  enough  for  the  day,  and  wading  across  the 
water  we  got  into  the  skiff  and  sailed  back  to  the  Brant. 
A  bath  and  a  smart  rub  down,  and  dinner  all  ready. 
And  then,  as  the  boys  cleaned  the  guns  and  hung  up 
the  fowls,  I  stretched  out  on  the  deck,  enjoying  a  dolce 
far  niente,  the  priceless  satiety  of  a  sportsman  who  has 
had  one  fair  day  without  mar  or  spoil. 

On  certain  large  lakes  in  Massachusetts,  which  are 


268  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

regularly  visited  by  the  geese  on  their  migrations,  the 
practice  of  shooting  over  live  decoys  has  been  carried 
to  its  highest  perfection.  Here  are  used  not  only  live 
decoys  tethered  in  the  water  and  on  the  beach,  but  birds 
are  kept  also  on  the  shore  behind  the  stand,  which,  on 
the  appearance  of  a  flock  of  wild  geese,  are  tossed  into 
the  air,  and  fly  down  to  the  captive  decoys  in  the  water. 

On  a  little  hill  behind  the  stand  a  man  sits  concealed 
in  a  blind  ready  to  throw  the  fly-geese,  which  are  taught 
to  fly  out,  circle  about  and  finally  alight  in  the  water. 
As  each  one  of  these  birds  is  thrown,  the  tethered  birds 
on  the  beach  and  in  the  pens  set  up  a  loud  honkmg,  and 
the  combination  of  the  calling  and  the  flying  birds 
usually  brings  the  approaching  flock  to  the  water.  They 
do  not  always  alight  near  the  decoys,  but  even  if  they 
are  quite  a  distance  from  shore,  the  flying  birds  and 
those  seen  on  the  beach  are  likely  to  draw  them  in. 

A  very  clear  idea  of  the  success  which  attends  this 
mode  of  decoying  at  Silver  Lake,  where  one  stand  of 
live  decoys  numbers  about  200  birds,  can  be  had  from 
an  account  of  it  published  some  years  ago  in  Forest  and 
Stream^  which  reads  substantially  as  follows  i 

On  the  afternoon  of  November  15th,  Charles  and  I 
went  to  the  lake  with  our  traps.  On  the  way  we  met 
William,  the  crack  shot,  and  were  told  by  him  that  the 
boys  had  killed  eighteen  geese  that  morning.  Our 
blood  was  up  at  once,  for  we  had  not  forgotten  the  last 
huntc 

After  supper  we  stood  in  the  sand,  when  from  out 
of  the  sky  came  the  faint,  long  honk  of  geese.     There 


GOOSE    SHOOTING,  26g 

they  are,  and  George  stirs  up  the  decoys.  Old  One 
Wing  hears  the  call  and  straightens  out  for  work. 
Soon  the  whole  point  is  in  one  grand  roar.  The  wild 
geese  swing  over  us,  and  we  can  just  make  out  the  line 
of  black  rushing  through  ttie  air.  They  wheel  out  over 
the  lake,  honk  a  few  times,  and  we  hear  them  no  more. 
In  a  little  while,  as  we  look  up  the  lake,  we  see  a  flash, 
then  three  or  four,  and  then  come  the  reports  of  the 
guns.  Men  at  a  stand  on  the  east  side  of  the  lake  have 
shot,  and  now  the  air  is  full  of  geese.  We  try  to  stop 
some  of  them,  but  it  is  of  no  use ;  so  this  ends  the  fun 
for  the  presento 

It  is  now  about  12  o'clock.  Add,  Tom,  Herb  and  I 
are  in  the  stand.  George  has  turned  in,  having  been  up 
two  nights.  There  is  a  light  ripple  on  the  water.  The 
moon  shines  brightly,  and  we  are  saymg  that  it  is  an 
ideal  night  for  birds,  when  Herb  says,  ''What  is  that 
just  inside  the  blocks?"  Tom  looks  with  glasses,  and 
says,  *'Ducks;  about  fifteen."  They  come  nearer  and  are 
almost  near  enough  to  shoot,  when  there  comes,  honk, 
honk,  honk  right  over  us.  There  are  fourteen  geese, 
with  wings  crooked,  scaling  to  our  decoys.  Have  you 
ever  seen  them?  and  didn't  your  blood  tingle?  Some- 
thing startles  them,  and  they  whirl  to  the  north,  going 
toward  the  place  where  the  other  shot  was  fired. 

As  the  boys  had  been  up  nearly  all  of  two  nights,  I 
offered  to  stand  watch  to-night.  As  I  stood  there  look- 
ing at  the  water,  it  came  to  me  wh}^  this  place  was  called 
Silver  Lake,  The  moon  shining  on  the  water,  which 
was  stirred  to  a  little  ripple  by  the  breeze,  made  it  seem 


2/0  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

like  a  lake  of  silver,  and  I  thought  it  well  named.  The 
geese  decoys  had  settled  for  the  night,  with  only  now 
and  then  the  low  growl  of  an  old  gander,  which  would 
be  quickly  answered  by  one  of  his  goslings  on  the  hill. 
The  faint  hoot  of  an  owl  comes  to  me  from  the  eastern 
side  of  the  lake,  while  from  the  southern  end  I  hear 
the  quick  quack-quack  of  some  ducks  which  have  just 
lit.  Then  the  soft  call  of  the  decoys  at  the  new  stand 
comes  to  me  from  afar  off  and  startles  me  from  my 
dreams,  causing  me  to  stir  up  the  decoys  and  almost 
sending  me  in  to  wake  the  boys  before  I  knew  what  it 
was.  As  I  get  over  my  excitement  and  find  that  my 
heart  is  not  in  my  m.outh,  I  hear  the  boom  of  a  volley  of 
guns  at  Oldham  Pond;  then  in  a  short  time  another, 
and  right  upon  it  three  reports  from  the  new  stand„  I 
go  into  the  air  about  a  foot,  and  see  Oliver,  and  Herb 
close  at  his  heels,  bareheaded  and  hair  standing  on  end. 
'^Great  Scott!  Have  the  British  landed?"  from  Oliver, 
while  Herb  is  saying :  "What's  the  matter,  Fred ;  are 
you  tfying  to  blow  us  up  ?"  I  explain  matters,  and  as  it 
is  after  3  o'clock  we  decide  to  turn  in  and  let  the  lake 
take  care  of  itself.  Nothing  thus  far.  But  our  time  is 
coming. 

In  the  morning  about  8  o'clock  George  said :  "I  am 
looking  for  a  large  flock  of  geese  to-day."  He  had 
gone  to  feed  the  decoys,  when  Gene  said :  "There  are 
geese."  We  pressed  the  button,  and  in  a  minute  all 
were  in  the  stand.  "There  they  are,"  said  George.  "I 
never  saw  so  large  a  flock  before."  As  they  came  out 
over  the  lake  the  new  stand  let  out  their  flyers;  then 


GOOSE    SHOOTING,  271 

Gunner's  Point  let  theirs  go;  and  when  George  and 
Herb  pulled  on  them,  the  way  those  goslings  went  from 
the  hill  was  a  caution.  The  wild  ones  see  the  flyers 
and  hang,  then  crook,  and  then  scale  toward  the  water. 
They  head  into  the  wind,  then  wheel  and  come  in  the 
wind,  then  settle  in  the  lake,  and  there  they  are.  'Tour 
acres  of  them/'  says  George.  I  shall  never  forget  how 
those  geese  looked  coming  in.  Talk  about  pictures,  it 
was  the  prettiest  one  I  ever  saw.  Such  a  large  flock  of 
wild  ones,  with  about  300  decoys  flying  around  the 
three  stands,  was  enough  to  open  any  sportsman's  eyes. 
The  gunners  at  Gunner's  Point  break  about  a  dozen 
from  the  bunch,  but  do  not  shoot  at  them ;  the  rest  come 
toward  us.  George  says :  'They  can't  help  it."  We  get 
fift}^  near  enough  to  shoot ;  then  another  flock  of  twenty 
came,  and  eight  lit  with  our  decoys.  Charles  and  I  were 
going  to  attend  to  these,  but  they  swam  away  before 
George  could  get  the  rest  as  he  wanted  them.  We 
rushed  up  beside  Add  and  George,  and  as  George  said, 
*'Get  on  to  them,"  we  rose  up  over  the  stand. 

Geese  everywhere;  where  shall  I  shoot?  I  see  four 
together,  with  some  more  in  range.  I  hold  on  the  four. 
"Are  you  ready?  Fire !"  What  a  roar  from  the  guns, 
and  also  from  the  wild  geese  and  decoys.  Twenty- 
seven  dead  and  wounded  geese.  We  are  not  to  shoot 
flying:  but  William,  from  force  of  habit,  shoots,  and 
says  he  knocked  his  goose.  Well,  the  world  was  full  of 
them,  and  some  must  have  flown  into  it.  They  circle 
around  the  lake  and  alight  everywhere.  Ten  come  with 
our  decoys.     We  ''get  on  to  them,"  and  kill  nine.      In  a 


272  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

few  minutes  six  alight  with  the  decoys  at  the  north  end. 
We  go  up  there  and  kill  them  all.  Now  they  shoot  at 
the  new  stand,  then  at  Gunner's  Point,  and  about  a 
hundred  alight  in  the  lake  in  front  of  us.  We  get  out 
the  boat  and  pick  up  the  game,  then  hustle  after  the 
flyers.  As  we  are  driving  them  in  we  see  one  among 
them  locking  rather  wild.  ''Close  in  on  them,  boys. 
That  is  a  wild  one,"  says  George.  It  proves  as  he  says, 
and  we  had  driven  in  a  wild  one.  He  will  make  a  decoy 
another  season.  After  we  got  the  flyers  in  I  hear  Add 
say,  *'Here  comes  a  single  goose;  nail  him,  Fred."  I 
grab  a  gun,  shoot  twnce,  and  the  goose  flew  on.    '^    *    * 

After  dinner  we  try  for  the  flock  which  is  in  the 
lake  in  front  of  us.  Tom  sees  a  flock  of  seven  coming. 
They  alight  with  the  others.  After  a  time  thirty-six 
start  to  come  on.  They  get  almost  near  enough  to 
shoot,  when  they  turn  and  swim  away  as  fast  as  they 
can.  What's  the  matter  ?  We  are  no  longer  in  doubt, 
for  a  man  comes  in  to  the  stand,  having  walked  around 
the  shore. 

Soon  we  see  another  large  flock  coming,  fully  as 
large  as  the  first.  They  come  over,  and  we  throw  on 
them;  it  does  the  business,  and  they  alight.  I  would 
like  to  know  how  many  geese  there  are  in  the  lake  now. 
We  drew  about  sixty,  but  could  only  get  twenty-two  to- 
gether. Thomas  gave  the  word,  George  not  being 
there.  We  killed  twenty-one.  George  came  into  the 
stand  just  as  we  fired,  and  we  had  the  laugh  on  him. 
By  this  time  it  was  dark.  The  geese  were  honking  all 
over  the  lake.    We  drew  on  six,  and  killed  them  all.    I 


GOOSE    SHOOTING.  273 

would  rather  not  say  anything  about  the  next  shot,  but 
perhaps  it  will  be  as  well  to  give  the  bitter  with  the 
sweet.  There  must  be  some  hitch,  and  here  it  was. 
Eleven  geese  near  enough,  all  hands  in  the  stand,  and 
as  George  said  ''Get  ready!"  some  one  shot.  We  all 
fired  at  the  break  of  the  gun,  but  only  got  three. 
George  was  mad,  and  the  way  he  talked  left  no  doubt 
in  any  mind  what  his  opinion  was  of  the  man  who 
shot.     *     *     * 

We  find  that  we  have  made  a  record  for  the  stand, 
sixty-eight  geese  in  twelve  hours  being  the  most  ever 
killed  in  the  same  time  at  any  stand  at  the  lake. 

In  Great  South  Bay,  Long  Island,  and  in  Shinnecock 
Bay  there  are  still  a  few  stands  of  live  wild  geese,  and 
some  birds  are  shot  there  every  year.  As  a  rule,  the 
shooting  is  done  from  boxes  sunk  in  the  points  of  the 
marsh  or  in  bars,  and  twenty-five  or  thirty  geese  are  tied 
out  as  decoys.  The  old  gander,  or  honker,  is  usually 
put  quite  a  distance  off  to  one  side. 

Under  some  conditions  the  geese  come  down  to  the 
decoys  here  as  in  other  places  along  the  Atlantic  coast, 
but  sometimes  it  happens  that  old  and  suspicious  birds 
will  take  the  bunch  down  to  the  water  far  out  of  gun-  ' 
shot.  When  this  happens,  it  is  the  part  of  the  tender, 
who  is  well  off-shore  in  his  catboat,  to  ''swim"  these 
geese  up  to  the  decoys.  He  must  work  backward  and 
forward  near  enough  to  them  to  urge  them  toward  the 
boxes,  and  yet  not  so  close  as  to  cause  them  actual  alarm 
or,  indeed,  suspicion.    As  in  most  other  places  where 


274  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

geese  are  shot,  the  attempt  is  usually  made  to  shoot  the 
first  barrel  at  the  birds  on  the  water  and  the  second  at 
them  as  they  rise.  The  "swimming"  of  geese  requires 
great  judgment  and  perseverance  and  a  good  knowl- 
edge of  the  points  and  bars  of  the  bay.  Often  it  takes 
hours  of  careful  work  to  get  the  geese  up  co  the  right 
place,  yet  very  often  it  is  successfully  done,  and  the  de- 
sired shot  is  had. 


DRIVING. 

During  the  winter,  geese  frequent  many  of  the  wider 
rivers  running  into  the  Chesapeake  Bay  and  into  the 
brackish  water  sounds  on  the  coasts  of  Virginia  and 
North  and  South  Carolina.  Here  they  are  often  shot 
by  a  method  of  driving  which  is  graphically  described 
ill  an  account  written  by  Mr.  L.  J.  Picot,  who  has  prac- 
ticed it,  and  published  in  Forest  and  Stream.  It  is  as 
follows : 

That  part  of  the  Roanoke  River  which  flows  through 
Warren  County,  and  between  the  upper  portions  of 
Halifax  and  Northampton  counties.  North  Carolina, 
has  long  been  a  favorite  feeding  place  for  the  wild 
geese.  As  soon  as  the  first  biting  frosts  come  in 
October  great  flocks  of  geese  take  up  their  winter  abode 
in  these  waters.  Huge  boulders  or  rocks  in  midstream 
furnish  them  roosting  places  at  night,  without  fear  of 
danger  of  invasion  from  man  or  beast.  These  rocks  are 
always  situated  between  swift-running,  though  shal- 


GOOSE    SHOOTING.  275 

low,  water,  rendering  their  approach  by  night  almost 
impossible.  The  river  is  a  succession  of  falls  for  several 
miles.  In  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  hollowed  out  by  long 
friction,  lodge  quantities  of  various  berries,  acorns  and 
rich  nuts,  floated  from  up-stream.  There,  too,  is  the 
tender  watercress  abundant.  This — the  berries  and 
nuts — is  the  food  of  the  wild  goose.  The  river  is  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  wide,  unnavigable  save  for  a  light 
flat-bottomed  canoe,  such  as  is  generally  used  by  fisher- 
men and  sportsmen  in  small  streams.  There  is  nothing 
to  disturb  the  serenity  of  the  geese  save  the  gun  of  the 
sportsman.  They  are  so  little  hunted  that  they  disport 
themselves  in  the  gurgling  waters  or  sit  on  the  rocks, 
not  heeding  persons  or  vehicles  passing  along  the  road 
on  the  river's  bank.  Often  they  present  an  easy  mark 
for  rifle-shot,  which  is  almost  sure  to  bring  down  one 
or  more,  as  they  are  huddled  so  close  to  each  other. 
One  sturdy  old  gander  stands  sentry  to  the  main  flock. 
With  vigilant  eyes,  one  foot  updrawn  in  his  feathers,' 
he  gives  notice  of  approaching  danger  by  a  loud  honk- 
honk.  Tliey  take  his  advice  promptly  and  leave  for 
another  feeding  place,  generally  in  the  falls,  higher  up 
or  lower  down  stream,  depending  entirely  on  the  direc- 
tion from  which  the  danger  comes.  One  great  comfort 
^o  the  hunter  is  that  their  flights  are  very  rarely  over  a 
mile  at  the  longest,  and  he  can  soon  have  another  pop 
at  them. 

The  romance  of  rising  in  the  weird  and  misty  light 
of  the  morning,  without  any  breakfast  or  hot  punch,  and 
sneaking  to  the  river's  bank,  is  entirely  left  out  in  our 


276  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

plan  of  goose  hunting  on  the  Roanoke  River,  There 
is  no  crawling  through  mud  and  briers  for  a  half  mile. 
The  geese  wait  for  you  to  get  your  breakfast,  and  din- 
ner, too,  if  you  want  it,  before  you  pay  them  your  re- 
spects in  the  manner  which  I  shall  presently  describe. 
You  just  ride  along  on  the  bank  of  the  river  as  you 
might  if  you  intended  going  to  church  or  a  funeral  on 
a  quiet  Sunday  morning  in  the  country.  You  try  to 
strike  the  stream  at  the  lowest  part,  where  the  geese 
frequent,  and  follow  up  the  water's  edge  until  the  geese 
are  sighted,  and  at  some  points  you  can  see  them  for  a 
mile  or  more.  It  is  always  necessary  to  have  two  men, 
and  it  is  better  to  have  a  party  of  three  to  make  a  suc- 
cessful hunt.  More  than  this  number  overloads  a  boat, 
and  lends  a  cheerful  prospect  of  a  good  ducking  in  the 
rapids  by  standing  on  a  smooth,  half-sunken  rock. 

We  take  a  boat,  usually  kept  just  above  or  below 
where  we  expect  to  find  the  geese,  and  paddle  to  one  of 
the  hundreds  of  small  islands  in  the  river,  from  six  feet 
in  circumference  to  several  acres.  We  select  a  small 
island,  dry  and  full  of  driftwood,  debris  of  bridges 
swept  away  in  freshets,  and  soft  grass.  We  select  a 
small  island,  because  the  birds,  wary,  of  the-  shore,  will 
not  approach  so  close  to  a  large  one  as  to  a  small  one. 
Here  we  are  perfectly  secreted  by  bushes  and  driftwood, 
not  at  all  cramped  in  posture,  while  waiting  for  a  shot. 
The  dry  grass  or  a  log  gives  choice  of  a  seat.  The  man 
in  the  boat,  who  is  to  be  the  driver,  then  scuds  along 
the  bank  furthest  from  the  grass,  so  as  not  to  alarm 
and  put  them  to  flight.     As  soon  as  he  passes  them 


GOOSE    SHOOTING.  277 

sufficiently  far  to  make  them  believe  he  has  gone  on 
some  other  business  up  the  river,  he  heads  his  boat  di- 
rectly for  them,  just  drifting  with  the  stream,  and  often 
whistling  a  merry  tune  so  as  to  attract  their  attention 
without  doing  so  too  suddenly.  The  geese  watch  the 
bearing  of  the  boat,  and  when  it  floats  toward  them 
they  swim  away  from  it.  The  man  in  the  boat  is  an 
old  hand  and  knows  full  well  when  he  can  push  away. 
If  they  show  signs  of  restlessness  he  paddles  away, 
pretending  not  to  notice  them.  The  object,  as  seen  at 
once,  is  to  start  and  keep  them  swimming  with  the  cur- 
rent. Once  set  them  fairly  to  moving,  and  here  comes 
a  solid  quarter  of  an  acre  of  geese  swimming  gracefully 
with  the  undulations  of  the  water  right  down  to  the 
muzzles  of  our  guns. 

How  we  tremble  with  excitement  and  impatience! 
You  whisper  through  chattering  teeth  to  your  neighbor 
to  keep  quiet  till  you  shall  say  ''Fire."  The  distance  on 
the  water  deceives  an  inexperienced  eye,  and  your 
neighbor  wants  to  shoot,  but  you  beg  him  to  hold  on  yet, 
and  wait  until  they  are  within  thirty  or  forty  yards. 
One  gives  the  word  to  fire  to  the  right  and  the  other  to 
the  left ;  two  barrels  in  the  water  and  two  shots  as  they 
rise ;  and  such  flapping  and  beating  the  water  was  rarely 
ever  seen  before.  You  rush,  delighted,  from  your  hid- 
ing place  to  yell  to  the  man  in  the  boat  to  gather  the 
dead  and  wounded  birds,  and  there  may  be  anywhere 
from  four  to  a  dozen.  If  there  are  some  only  wing- 
tipped,  here  is  fun  indeed,  for  a  goose  uses  his  feet  for 
all  they  are  worth,  and,  aided  by  the  rapid  current. 


278  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

makes  good  time  in  search  of  a  hiding  place  in  the 
rushes  of  an  adjoining  island.  An  extra  boat  now 
comes  in  well.  A  dog  is  nowhere.  Once  carried  past 
the  island,  he  cannot  swim  against  the  current. 

The  so-called  white  brant,  which  for  many  years 
have  spent  the  winter  or  a  part  of  it  on  Delaware  Bay, 
are  very  wary,  and  are  shot  with  difficulty  or  by  acci- 
dent. The  most  successful  way  of  obtaining  them, 
however,  is  to  paddle  up  to  them  among  the  ice. 

When  the  ice  is  breaking  up  in  the  spring  the  gunners 
get  into  a  boat  on  which  ice  is  piled,  the  men  themselves 
wearing  white  clothing,  or  being  covered  with  sheets 
and  keeping  as  much  as  possible  out  of  sight.  The  man 
in  the  stern  manages  the  oar  which  propels  and  directs 
the  boat,  which  is  sometimes  thus  sculled  right  in 
among  the  flock. 

In  the  Sacramento  Valley,  in  California,  the  wild 
geese,  on  their  southern  migrations,  arrive  early  and 
stay  late.  One  of  the  first  localities  to  be  visited  by  the 
geese  in  that  neighborhood  is  Fisherman's  Lake,  which 
lies  only  eight  miles  north  of  Sacramento.  Although 
occasional  small  bunches  reach  the  Sacramento  Valley 
in  the  very  last  days  of  August,  most  of  them  do  not 
come  until  about  the  middle  of  September.  Usually, 
however,  by  September  12th  or  15th,  large  numbers 
have  arrived,  and  a  record  kept  from  1876  to  1887 
shows  the  earliest  arrival  noted  to  have  been  August 
14th,  while  in  1880  the  earliest  birds  did  not  come  until 
September  17th. 


BRANT  SHOOTING. 


FROM    A  BATTERYo 


Brant  are  shot  from  batteries  in  very  considerable 
numbers,  and  this  mode  of  securing  them  does  not 
greatly  differ  from  ordinary  duck  shooting  from  a 
battery.  There  are  two  principal  methods  practiced 
in  various  places,  which  means  only  that  for  each  the 
battery  is  set  out  in  a  different  situation.  The  com- 
moner method  is  called  shooting  on  the  tide.  The  battery 
is  rigged  in  the  usual  w^ay  on  the  feeding  grounds  of 
the  brant,  in  shoal  water  under  the  beach.  For  a 
single  battery  eighty  decoys  would  be  used,  while  for 
a  double  battery  the  number  might  be  increased  to  a 
hundred.  The  decoys  are  disposed  much  as  in  shooting 
ducks  from  the  battery,  as  shown  in  the  diagram  in 
the  account  of  that  sport. 

Usually,  the  battery  is  rigged  out  near  high  water. 
As  the  tide  begins  to  fall,  the  brant  leave  their  ofif-shore 
grounds  and  strike  in  to  the  beach,  in  order  to  be  there 
when  the  w^ater  has  become  shoal  enough  for  them  to 
feed  on  the  grass  growing  on  the  bottom.  Sometimes 
they  come  in  small  numbers,  in  pairs  or  in  bunches  of 
half  a  dozen  to  fifteen,  and  then  offer  very  pretty 
shooting.  At  other  times  they  may  come  in  great 
bunches  of  several  hundred  or  a  thousand,  and  puzzle 
the  gunner,  who  knows  that  if  he  shoots  at  this  big 


279 


28o  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

bunch  none  of  them  will  come  back,  and  he  yet  fears 
that  he  may  not  get  another  shot  so  good. 

The  other  method  of  shooting  them  is  to  rig  out 
the  battery  on  the  off-shore  flats,  near  the  deep-water 
channels.  To  such  place*  the  birds  resort  to  sit  and 
rest,  when  the  tide  is  rising  and  they  can  no  longer 
feed.  At  such  times  the  gunner's  tender  with  the  sail- 
boat will  work  back  and  forth  to  leeward  of  the  birds, 
approaching  just  near  enough  to  disturb  them,  but  not 
to  frighten  them,  and  trying  to  make  them  take  wing 
and  fly  on  a  little  way,  so  as  to  go  down  with  the  next 
bunch  of  birds.  In  this  way  a  skillful  boatman  will 
drive  the  different  flocks  two  or  three  hundred  yards, 
not  further,  pushing  them  along  by  easy  stages  until 
some  of  them  go  down  to  the  decoys  about  the  battery. 
The  work  is  difficult  and  slow,  and  requires  great 
judgment  and  experience,  and  it  is  by  no  means  always 
possible  to  handle  the  birds  as  one  wishes  to. 

Usually  the  southern  brant  begin  to  work  up  north 
in  February,  and  reach  the  coast  of  Virginia,  north  of 
the  mouth  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay,  late  in  February. 
The  birds  that  have  wintered  on  the  Virginia  coast 
are  by  this  time  moving  north,  and  reach  the  Great 
South  Bay  in  small  numbers  early  in  March,  though 
they  do  not  become  abundant  until  about  the  20th. 
By  the  15th  of  April  most  of  the  brant  have  left  the 
Great  South  Bay,  and  by  the  20th  or  25th  of  April  they 
take  their  final  departure  from  the  Massachusetts  coast, 
where  they  are  not  seen  again  until  October.  Their 
movements  depend  greatly  on  the  wind.     Sometimes 


282  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

they  collect  in  surprising  numbers  in  favorite  localities, 
seemingly  waiting  for  favorable  weather  conditions.  If 
the  spring  is  stormy  and  cold,  with  gales  from  the 
north,  northwest  and  northeast,  the  brant  remain  here, 
growing  more  and  more  numerous ;  but  should  a  south- 
west wind  begin  to  blow,  the  birds  may  all  disappear 
in  a  night.  Sometimes  they  linger  in  the  Great  South 
Bay  until  the  first  days  of  May,  but  they  cannot  be  de- 
pended on  to  remain  so  late. 

Brant  were  formerly  very  unsuspicious,  and  came 
with  great  readiness  to  the  decoys  set  out  about  the 
battery ;  but  of  late  years,  since  they  have  been  so  per- 
sistently gunned,  they,  like  other  birds  and  mammals, 
are  learning  the  lesson  of  experience,  and  often  do  not 
decoy  readily,  and  sometimes  not  at  all. 

In  some  places  in  various  Atlantic  coast  waters,  the 
tides  and  the  currents  sweep  together  masses  of  grass 
and  seaweed  in  particular  places,  which  are  called  sea- 
weed banks  or  bunks.  These  are  often  piled  up  so 
that  the  surface  of  the  heap  is  within  a  few  inches  of 
the  top  of  the  water.  Where  such  bunks  are  formed 
near  the  feeding  grounds  of  the  brant  it  is  often  pos- 
sible to  rig  out  a  battery,  and  to  lie  there  and  shoot 
them  in  very  tempestuous  weather;  at  times,  in  fact, 
when  a  battery  could  not  live  in  deeper  water.  At 
such  times  the  brant  are  uneasy,  flying  about  and  seek- 
ing shelter,  and  come  to  decoys  more  readily  than 
at  other  times.  The  gunner  who  is  fortunate  enough 
to  find  such  a  place,  and  to  get  rigged  out  there,  is 
likely  to  have  exceedingly  good  shooting. 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  283 

Mr.  C.  R.  Purdy,  whose  long  experience  as  a  brant 
shooter  entitles  him  to  speak  with  all  authority,  has 
kindly  contributed  the  following  notes  on  brant  shoot- 
ing in  the  Great  South  Bay: 

"Brant  shooting  in  the  Great  South  Bay  is  entirely 
confined  to  the  spring  months.  Although  a  few  flocks 
pass  through  in  their  southern  migration,  they  never 
stop  in  the  bay  in  any  numbers.  In  the  spring,  how- 
ever,, they  select  these  waters  as  a  resting  place  on  their 
return  to  their  northern  breeding  ground.  A  few  scat- 
tering flocks  drop  in  the  bay  about  the  middle  of 
March,  and  from  that  time  on,  the  flight  improves  each 
day  until  about  the  first  week  in  April,  when  it  is  at  its 
height  and  the  fowl  are  in  the  bay  in  great  numbers. 

"If  we  could  have  in  the  fall  the  same  number  of 
brant  that  we  have  in  the  spring  they  would  furnish 
magnificent  shooting,  but,  arriving  as  they  do  in  the 
spring  months  after  being  shot  at  all  winter  in  south- 
ern waters,  they  seem  to  be  familiar  with  all  the  devices 
used  by  man  for  their  capture,  and  it  is  only  by  hard 
work  and  under  extremely  favorable  circumstances 
that  even  a  fair  bag  can  be  made.  My  average,  as  I 
find  on  looking  over  the  score  book,  is  from  thirty  to 
thirty-five  birds  a  week,  and  my  best  day  in  fifteen, 
years  was  forty-seven  brant. 

"Brant  prefer  to  feed  on  the  shoals  immediately 
under  the  beach,  and  as  they  cannot  dive  for  their  food 
they  wait  until  the  ebb  tide  is  partly  down,  when  they 
can  readily  reach  the  young  marine  grasses  by  dipping. 
It  is  in  such  places  that  the  gunner  rigs  out  his  shooting 


284  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

outfit,  which  usually  consists  of  a  single  battery  with 
from  seventy-five  to  eighty  brant  decoys,  or  a 
double  battery  with  ninety  to  one  hundred.  Some 
gunners  do  not  use  so  many  brant  decoys,  and  fill  out 
with  duck  decoys. 

"When  the  flight  of  brant  starts  for  the  beach  the 
birds  will  continue  to  fly  during  the  greater  part  of  the 
ebb,  or  until  all  those  that  have  been  living  on  that 
shoal  have  come  in,  but  they  have  a  bad  habit,  ac- 
quired in  the  South,  of  rising  high  in  the  air  to  see  what 
lies  beyond  the  decoys  they  are  approaching,  and  in  this 
way  they  are  very  likely  to  discover  the  poor  wretch 
in  the  box,  who,  in  his  efforts  to  get  lower  down  out  of 
sight,  is  trying  to  shove  himself  through  the  bottom  of 
the  battery. 

''Young  birds,  which  can  be  recognized  by  the  scat- 
tering white  spots  under  the  wings,  are  not  so  sus- 
picious and  decoy  much  better.  When  a  flock  does 
come  in  well,  an  experienced  gunner  will  usually  wait 
until  the  birds  lap — as  is  their  habit — and  as  many  as 
eleven  have  been  killed  by  two  barrels. 

"The  old  eel-grass  on  the  shoals  will  often  collect  un- 
til it  forms  almost  a  small  island  with  the  top  just  below 
the  surface  of  the  water.  These  are  called  by  the  gun- 
ners seaweed  bunks,  and  vary  in  size,  some  being  only 
large  enough  to  protect  the  battery,  and  make  a  lee  for 
it,  while  others  are  fifty  or  sixty  feet  across.  When  a 
bunk  makes  up  on  a  good  brant  shoal,  the  gunner  who 
rigs  out  under  it  may  remain  in  his  battery,  even  if  it 
should  come  on  to  blow  heavily,  when  a  battery  could 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  285 

not  live  on  an  open  flat.  In  the  heavy  wind  the  brant 
do  not  rise  high  as  they  do  in  Hght  weather,  but  hug 
the  water  and  decoy  readily. 

"Often  brant  will  be  found  in  scattered  bunches 
along  the  edges  of  off-shore  flats — called  middle 
grounds  by  the  gunners — and  in  the  channels.  There 
they  swim  about,  picking  up  driftweed,  often  taking 
to  wing  and  flying  short  distances  and  again  alighting 
as  soon  as  they  get  sight  of  a  tempting  lot  of  grass. 
At  such  times  good  shooting  may  be  had  by  rigging 
out  as  near  as  possible  to  the  place  where  the  birds  are, 
and  by  carefully  sailing  boat  to  leeward  of  the  brant, 
when  they  can  gradually  be  worked  up  to  the  decoys. 

"Brant  are  sometimes  held  in  the  bay  by  thousands 
when  the  wind  is  unfavorable  to  their  northern  flight, 
and  if  the  wind  changes  suddenly  and  blows  from  the 
southward,  they  will  leave  in  a  body  and  usually  on 
the  flood  tide.  Many  a  time  I  have  sat  on  the  side  of 
the  box  and  watched  the  procession  go  by,  flock  after 
flock,  cackling  and  talking.  Decoys  are  then  useless, 
as  they  pay  no  attention  to  them.  Now  and  then  a 
flock  will  stop  in  their  onward  flight  to  fly  around  in 
a  circle — to  see  if  their  steering  gear  is  all  right,  as 
the  gunners  explain  it.  When  they  reach  the  east  end 
of  the  bay,  the  birds  mount  high  in  air  and  are  gone  for 
another  year." 

The  following  spirited  account  of  brant  shooting 
from  a  battery  behind  a  seaweed  bunk  was  also  kindly 
written  for  me  by  Mr.  Purdy: 


286  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

*'It's  no  use  talking,"  said  the  captain,  "these  old 
brant  are  getting  too  well  educated  for  us."  His  re- 
marks were  drawn  out  by  a  bunch  of  500  or  600  brant 
that  we  had  discovered,  living  at  Flat  Beach,  and  for 
which  we  had  rigged  with  the  result  of  killing  only 
seven.  Although  bunch  after  bunch  had  headed  for 
the  decoys,  they  had  a  bad  habit  of  rising  in  the  air 
when  about  two  gunshots  from  the  rig,  to  see  whether 
there  was  anything  dangerous  beyond  the  nice-looking 
lot  of  decoys  we  had  out. 

''If  there  had  only  been  more  young  birds,  I  think 
they  would  have  done  better,"  the  captain  continued. 
"I  don't  know  what  we  had  better  do  next.  I  suppose 
we  might  as  well  go  east,  as  far  as  Old  House  Flat, 
and  look  around." 

So  we  got  sail  on  the  sloop  and  stood  east.  We  had 
been  working  with  the  brant  since  the  20th  of  March, 
and  it  was  now  the  3d  of  April,  but  as  yet  the  big 
flight  of  birds  had  not  come  on.  We  had  been  picking 
them  up,  some  days  three,  and  others  seven  or  eight, 
and  the  season's  score  looked  as  if  it  would  be  slim. 
But  still  we  had  a  good  comfortable  thirty-foot  sloop, 
with  a  large  cabin  and  plenty  of  good  things  to  eat,  and 
we  could  afiford  to  wait  and  see. 

We  reached  Old  House  Flat  about  dark  and  an- 
chored close  under  the  beach. 

''I  don't  like  the  looks  of  the  weather,"  the  captain 
remarked,  as  we  were  tying  up  the  sails.  ''I  am  afraid 
we  are  in  for  an  easter."  After  supper  we  went  on 
deck  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  weather,  and  things  did 


BRANT   SHOOTING.  287 

not  look  promising  for  the  next  few  days'  shooting". 
The  wind  had  pulled  in  to  the  northeast,  and  a  heavy- 
scud  was  driving  across  the  moon.  So,  paying  out 
more  chain,  we  turned  in,  to  be  lulled  to  sleep  by  rat- 
tling blocks  and  the  dull  boom  of  the  surf  on  the 
beach. 

The  alarm  clock  got  us  out  at  4  o'clock  next  morn- 
ing, and  after  breakfast  we  went  on  deck  to  look  about. 
It  was  still  dark,  and  the  wind  was  northeast,  blowing 
hard,  almost  a  gale.  This  meant  too  much  sea  on  the 
flats  for  a  battery.  I  resigned  myself  to  a  day  of  read- 
ing in  my  bunk.  But  by  seven  o'clock  the  ebb  tide 
began  to  make  and  the  captain  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  taking  the  sharpie,  and  going  ashore  to  collect 
driftwood  for  the  stove.  He  had  been  gone  about  a 
half  hour,  and  I  was  dozing  over  my  book,  when  I 
heard  the  scraping  of  the  sharpie  alongside,  followed 
a  minute  later  by  the  captain's  head  being  thrust  in  the 
cabin  door. 

"The  quicker  we  get  a  move  on  us  the  better,"  he 
said.  "There  is  a  good  seaweed  bunk  in  shore  to  the 
east  of  us,  and  any  quantity  of  brant  are  going  in  to 
the  beach." 

That  was  enough  for  me.  I  was  out  of  the  bunk  in 
a  minute  and  on  deck  with  the  glasses.  I  could  make 
out  one  hundred  brant  or  more  on  the  flat,  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  east  of  us,  and  several  bunches 
were  swinging  around  to  the  windward  of  the  sloop 
and  heading  in  shore.  We  wasted  no  time.  The  stops 
were  thrown  off  the  head  fender  of  the  battery,  and 


288  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  sloop's  stern  shoved  around  with  a  pole,  until  she 
lay  broadside  to  the  sea,  when  the  centreboard  was 
dropped,  to  hold  her  there.  This  made  a  lee  for  the 
battery,  and  it  was  launched  over  the  side.  It  was  so 
rough  that  the  battery  could  not  carry  the  iron  duck 
decoys  when  clear  of  the  boat.  So  seven  of  them 
weighing  twenty-five  pounds  each  were  lowered  into 
the  stool  boat,  followed  by  my  eight  and  ten  gauge 
guns  in  rubber  covers,  with  two  rubber  bags  contain- 
ing shells  for  the  guns.  Then  I  threw  in  the  old 
gunning  coat  for  a  pillow,  and  the  rubber  blanket 
for  the  bottom  of  the  box,  and  taking  the  battery 
in  tow  of  the  stool  boat,  using  the  anchor  rope  of 
the  head  fender  for  a  tow  line,  we  succeeded  after 
twenty  minutes'  hard  poling  in  reaching  the  seaweed 
bunk. 

A  seaweed  bunk  is  nothing  more  than  a  large  mass 
of  seaweed,  worked  together  by  the  tides  until  it  forms 
almost  an  island  which  may  vary  from  ten  to  fifty  feet 
across,  with  the  top  a  few.  inches  below  the  surface. 
Our  btmk  we  found  a  good  one,  thirty  or  more  feet 
wide  and  forming  a  splendid  shelter  for  the  battery.  It 
was  the  work  of  only  a  few  minutes  to  throw  the  head 
fender  anchor  under  the  lee  of  the  bunk,  straighten 
the  battery  down  wind,  and  drop  the  tail  stone.  Guns 
and  traps  were  put  in  the  box  and  the  decoys  thrown 
out.  We  were  using  eighty  brant  with  a  single  bat- 
tery, seven  or  eight  decoys  were  dropped  across  to 
windward  of  the  head  fender,  and  a  double  line  down 
each  side  of  the  battery,  close  enough    together    to 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  289 

break  its  outline.  The  rest  were  scattered  between  a 
point  fifteen  yards  distant  on  the  left  hand  of  the  bat- 
tery and  forty  yards  to  the  leeward. 

Leaving  me  in  the  box,  the  captain  started  back  to 
the  sloop  to  exchange  the  stool  boat  for  the  sharpie, 
as  he  would  have  to  tend  the  battery  from  the  shore; 
the  shoal  water  and  the  direction  of  the  wind  prevent- 
ing the  use  of  the  sloop.  After  getting  the  sharpie 
he  rowed  over  to  tell  me  that  he  was  going  to  put  up 
the  brant  that  we  had  seen  going  in  to  the  east. 

At  last  then  I  was  alone,  with  only  the  wooden  de- 
coys bobbing  and  moving  around  me.  I  dropped  down 
the  side  fender  and  walked  around  to  wet  down  the 
battery  deck.  The  old  gunning  coat  was  doubled  up  on 
the  head  board,  the  rubber  blanket  spread  on  the  bot- 
tom of  the  box,  covers  taken  from  the  guns,  which  were 
loaded  with  No.  2  and  BB  shot  for  the  eight-gauge, 
and  No.  4  and  No.  2  for  the  ten,  and  with  the  ten-gauge 
on  my  right  hand  and  the  eight  on  my  left,  the  muzzles 
sticking  over  the  foot  of  the  box,  and  with  the  shell 
bags  between  my  feet,  I  lay  down  to  wait  for  something 
to  happen. 

I  wondered  if  the  captain  had  started  the  birds  yet, 
and  I  rolled  partly  over  and  looked  back.  No ;  he  had 
not  gone  far  enough  up  to  get  on  the  other  side  of  them 
yet.  So  I  dropped  back  and  began  to  follow  the  course 
of  a  three-masted  schooner  which  was  going  west,  out- 
side the  beach,  under  lower  sails.  Suddenly  the  air 
back  of  me  was  filled  with  the  sound  of  tearing  muslin. 
I  caught  up  the  ten-gauge  and  twisted  around  to  take 


290  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

a  part  in  the  disturbance.  A  bunch  of  shell  duck  had 
cut  down  to  the  decoys  back  of  me  and  were  gone 
before  I  could  get  around  to  them.  The  next  minute 
I  was  just  as  well  pleased  that  I  had  not  shot,  for  the 
captain  had  started  the  brant,  and  they  were  coming- 
down  the  shore.  There  seemed  a  very  large  squad  of 
them ;  too  bad  they  could  not  come  in  smaller  bunches 
at  different  times!  I  hugged  the  bottom  of  the  box 
close,  and  began  to  toss  up  in  my  mind  whether  to  try 
the  eight-gauge  first  or  the  ten,  or  had  I  better  let 
them  alight,  or  would  it  be  better  to  have  them  bunch 
in  the  air.  I  was  considering  these  things,  when,  to 
my  horror,  I  saw  the  whole  flock  going  past  me  to  the 
leeward,  and  not  noticing  the  decoys.  That  would 
not  do.  So  off  came  my  old  black  soft  hat,  and  flirting 
it  with  a  quick  motion  along  the  edge  of  the  box,  T 
called  brant  talk  as  loud  as  I  could.  How  quickly  they 
noticed  it!  The  head  part  of  the  bunch  lifted  in  the 
air  and  caught  sight  of  the  stool. 

In  an  instant  everything  was  changed.  The  head 
birds  had  turned  for  the  decoys,  and  the  rear  birds 
were  mounting  the  air  to  see  where  they  were  going, 
and,  finding  out,  fell  in  behind.  They  were  all  talking 
at  once  and  were  hugging  the  water  where  the  heavy 
wind  was  least  felt.  "They  will  come  in  like  chick- 
ens," I  thought,  ''and  if  I  work  those  two  guns  all 
right  we  will  have  something  to  look  at  to-night." 
Along  they  came,  a  regiment  of  them,  beating  slowly 
against  the  wind.  How  big  they  looked!  Soon  the 
half-dozen  birds  in  advance  reached  the  decoys  and 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  29I 

dropped  in,  and  the  others  were  over  the  tail  part  of 
the  decoys,  when  something  alarmed  them.  It  was 
useless  to  stay  down  out  of  sight  any  longer,  and  I 
seized  the  eight-gauge  and  aimed  at  a  thick  bunch  of 
birds  to  left  hand.  How  they  tumbled  out !  Those  No. 
2  shot  did  great  work;  five  shut  up  dead,  and  more 
were  coming,  dropping  until  four  more  had  fallen, 
making  nine,  and  another  looked  as  if  he  were  badly 
hurt.  T  watched  him  to  see  whether  he  would  drop 
out  further  to  the  windward. 

The  captain  came  rowing  down  like  a  steamboat,  to 
gather  in  the  birds.  He  shot  over  the  cripples  and  we 
owned  our  nine  brant.  I  stood  up  in  the  box  to  receive 
the  captain's  congratulations  and  was  staggered  by  his 
question:  "What  was  the  matter;  weren't  they  near 
enough  ?" 

''Near  enough!  Of  course.  Didn't  you  pick  up 
nine?" 

"Well,  then,  you  must  have  had  buck  fever.  Two 
guns  in  the  battery  and  only  fired  one  shot  at  a  crowd 
of  brant  like  that !  You're  a  great  one  for  an  old  duck 
shooter !" 

But  no  matter,  we  had  no  time  to  indulge  in  re- 
grets, we  felt  that  we  must  take  advantage  of  the  ebb 
and  get  what  birds  we  could.  The  captain  had  just 
gotten  nicely  out  of  the  way,  when  seven  brant  came 
in  from  off  shore,  and  four  stopped  in  the  lower  part 
of  the  decoys. 

Picking  up  my  ten-gauge,  I  scored  a  clean  miss  on 
the  three  flying  birds  with  the  first  barrel,  but  managed 


292  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

to  kill  two  with  the  second,  and,  catching  up  the  eight- 
gauge,  I  stopped  two  others  as  they  started  out  of  the 
decoys. 

After  a  look  around  and  seeing  nothing  on  the  wing, 
I  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  box  for  a  while,  when  a  low 
k-r-r-r-k  from  the  lower  part  of  the  decoys  caused  me 
to  look  quietly  that  way.  A  single  brant  was  swim- 
ming through  the  rig.  It  is  strange  how  sometimes 
they  will  come  up  and  alight  when  you  are  sitting  up, 
and  at  other  times  you  cannot  get  them  near  decoys 
when  you  are  hidden  well.  I  made  sure  of  gathering 
in  our  solitary  friend,  for  I  w^anted  to  get  out  of  the 
thirteen  hole. 

Soon  another  flock  came  in  sight,  off  shore,  and  I 
got  down  in  the  box  to  w^atch  them.  I  wished  they 
would  not  get  around  so  far  back  of  me,  for  this 
turning  one's  self  into  a  corkscrew  by  trying  to  peek 
backwards  in  a  battery  is  not  agreeable.  They  did  not 
show  up  on  the  other  side  of  the  box  for  some  time,  but 
at  last  I  saw  them  up  to  the  vv^indward.  They  had 
dropped  in,  and  were  going  to  swim  in  to  the  beach. 
There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  lie  close.  Five  minutes 
passed  and  an  old  black  duck  came  over  the  box  and 
looked  down  in  my  face.  I  imagined  I  could  detect 
a  leer  in  his  cunning  old  eyes,  as  if  he  knew  I  would  not 
shoot  at  him  with  those  brant  coming  down.  It 
seemed  to  me  as  if  by  this  time  the  brant  must  have 
drifted  down  before  the  heavy  wind.  I  rolled  over  a 
little  and  looked  and  saw  one  swimming  down  just 
outside  the  decoys,  and  the  rest  were  almost  at  the  head 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  293 

fender.  I  decided  to  let  that  single  fellow  get  down 
a  little  further  and  to  take  the  eight-gauge  and  swing 
around  on  the  other  chaps,  and  take  the  single  one  in 
as  he  started  up.  When  he  was  far  enough  down,  I 
swung  around  with  the  eight-gauge  and  took  a  care- 
ful aim  at  the  waterline  of  the  nearest  bird  of  three 
sitting  together,  but  they  jumped  as  I  pulled  and  I 
scored  a  blank,  the  second  barrel  stopping  one  bird. 
Now  for  the  single  one !  He  didn't  lead  up  according 
to  programme,  but  climbed  down  wind  and  was  now 
a  long  shot  off.  I  sent  both  barrels  on  the  ten-gauge 
after  him.  The  first  hit  him  hard,  but  it  looked  as  if 
he  would  carry  it  off ;  but  no,  he  set  his  wings  and  scaled 
in  toward  the  sharpie,  and  then  let  himself  down  gently 
— a  cripple.  A  puff  of  smoke  rose  from  the  sharpie  and 
a  moment  later  his  brantship  was  tossed  rudely  on  to 
the  stern  seat. 

The  captain  shoved  slowly  toward  the  battery,  pick- 
ing up  the  dead,  and  was  soon  within  talking  distance. 

''We  will  have  rain  soon ;  it  is  getting  thick  off  there 
to  the  east,"  was  his  first  remark.  ''You  didn't  do 
much  with  that  last  bunch,"  was  his  second.  But 
just  then  a  boat  going  in  to  the  beach  to  the  west  of  us 
put  up  a  big  cloud  of  brant  and  the  captain  started 
back  for  the  shore.  I  stood  on  the  deck  to  look  around 
while  he  was  rowing  away,  and  off  shore  of  me  to  the 
east  and  west  I  could  see  the  white  tails  of  brant, 
bobbing  up  and  down  on  the  waves.  Our  easter  Avas 
doing  big  work  and  the  brant  were  stopping  in  the 
bay,  tired  out  by  facing  its  force. 


294  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

More  birds  were  coming  now  and  the  shooting  went 
on  briskly  as  they  came  up,  flock  after  flock.  I  made 
some  rank  misses  that  I  felt  I  could  explain  to  myself; 
but  I  knew  that  it  would  be  pretty  hard  to  do  so  to  that 
dark  object  sitting  in  the  sharpie  on  shore,  with  a 
powerful  pair  of  field  glasses  glued  to  his  eyes. 

Forty-seven  brant  lay  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  when 
down  came  the  rain  in  torrents.  We  tried  to  stand  it 
long  enough  to  bring  the  score  to  fifty,  but  the  shower 
bath  on  my  upturned  face  was  too  much  for  me,  and 
we  reluctantly  gave  it  up  and  rowed  back  to  the  sloop. 
Those  forty-seven  noble  birds  were  stowed  away,  the 
rig  picked  up,  rubber  boots  and  wet  clothing  taken  off, 
and  with  dry  clothes,  feet  in  old  comfortable  slippers, 
a  stifif  hot  Scotch  to  take  the  chill  out  of  the  bones, 
we  loaded  our  pipes  and  proceeded  to  talk  it  all  over. 

'Well,  what  do  you  think  of  to-day.  Cap?" 

'1  would  like  to  have  made  it  fifty,"  he  replied,  ''but 
if  we  do  half  as  well  to-morrow  I  will  be  satisfied." 

We  came  near  it,  but  that  is  another  piece  of  history. 
The  day  behind  the  bunk  had  always  remained  my  big 
day  at  brant,  and,  with  the  great  increase  of  batteries 
and  the  brant  growing  wilder  each  year,  I  know  only 
too  well  it  will  never  be  duplicated,  at  least  in  the 
Great  South  Bay. 

BAR  SHOOTING. 

At  one  or  two  points  only,  along  the  Atlantic  coast, 
is  brant  shooting  practiced  from  boxes  on  sand-bars 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  295 

with  live  decoys.  For  many  years,  however,  this  has 
been  the  only  successful  method  of  securing  these  birds 
at  Cape  Cod,  where  three  clubs,  known  as  the  Mono- 
moy,  Providence  and  Manchester,  have  long  existed, 
and  have  occupied  the  branting  ground  on  terms  of  en- 
tire harmony. 

For  more  than  forty  years,  Mr.  Warren  Hapgood 
was  a  prominent  member  of  the  Monomoy  Club  and 
an  enthusiastic  brant  shooter,  and  many  years  ago  he 
contributed  to  the  columns  of  Forest  and  Stream  an 
extended  and  admirable  account  of  this  shooting,  which 
is  in  part  given  below.  It  will  be  observed  that  in  its 
essentials  bar  shooting  for  brant  does  not  very  mark- 
edly differ  from  goose  shooting  from  boxes,  but  the 
conditions  which  prevail  at  Cape  Cod  are  so  very  dif- 
ferent from  those  existing  where  geese  are  shot,  and 
the  brant  themselves  have  so  many  peculiarities  not 
shared  by  the  geese,  that  brant  shooting,  as  practiced 
here,  requires  a  description  by  itself.  In  the  article 
above  referred  to  Mr.  Hapgood  says : 

Brant  shooting  is  a  peculiar  kind  of  sport  that  but 
few  have  indulged  in.  There  are  many  obstacles  in  the 
way.  The  haunts  of  the  birds  are  few  and  isolated, 
their  feeding  grounds  limited,  their  sojourn  brief;  nor 
can  any  degree  of  success  be  achieved  without  the 
proper  appliances,  such  as  a  house  to  live  in,  boats, 
boxes,  bars,  live  decoys  and  a  skillful  hand  to  manipu- 
late them.  When,  however,  all  these  are  obtained,  no 
spring  shooting  on  the  coast  of  New  England  gives 


296  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

greater  satisfaction,  or  better  rewards  the  energy  and 
skill  of  the  sportsman.  The  birds  are  large,  weighing 
three  and  a  half  pounds,  numerous,  and,  gastronomi- 
cally,  have  no  superiors.  They  are  not  distributed  uni- 
versally along  the  Atlantic  shores,  as  are  Canada  geese, 
black  duck,  coot  and  other  aquatic  birds.  At  the  east- 
erly end  of  Massachusetts  is  the  nice,  old-fashioned 
town  of  Chatham,  and  some  three  miles  away  to  the 
southward  of  this  is  the  island  of  Monomoy,  a  mere 
belt  of  sand  running  still  further  southward  six  miles. 

Facing  eastward  from  Monomoy,  one  sees  the  broad 
Atlantic,  where  ''they  on  the  trading  flood  ply,  stem- 
ming nightly  toward  the  pole."  It  is  no  uncommon  oc- 
currence for  a  fleet  of  a  hundred  sail  to  be  seen  at  an- 
chor or  struggling  against  wind  or  tide  to  reach  a  port, 
and  many  a  gallant  ship  has  been  wrested  from  her 
course  by  the  storm  king  and  tossed  upon  the  beach  as 
a  mere  toy.  After  an  easterly  gale,  one  of  the  objects 
of  intense  interest  to  tourists  is  the  matchless  grandeur 
of  the  spectacle  of  ''hills  of  sea,  Olympus  high"  that 
dash  themselves  in  thunder  upon  this  sand-bar,  again 
and  again  to  be  absorbed  in  the  bosom  of  the  refluent 
wave.  On  the  westerly  side  of  the  island,  stretching  up 
and  down  some  miles,  is  what  is  called  "Chatham  Great 
Flats,"  over  which  the  water  flows,  varying  from  two 
feet  to  almost  nothing,  according  as  it  is  full  or  neap 
tide. 

Adjoining  these  flats,  on  the  southerly  or  westerly 
side,  is  deep,  blue  water,  where  grows  an  immense 
quantity  of  common  eel  grass  (Zostera  marina),  upon 


BRANT   SHOOTING.  297 

which  the  brant  feed;  and  this  is  the  great  feeding 
grounds  for  these  birds  on  Cape  Cod.  So  attractive  is 
this  locaHty  that  thousands  of  these  Httle  geese  as- 
semble here  every  spring  to  ''feed  and  batten,"  prepara- 
tory to  the  long  journey,  via  Prince  Edward's  Island, 
to  their  breeding  grounds  at  or  near  the  North  Pole. 
It  will  be  understood  that  the  marine  vegetable  that 
proves  so  savory  a  morsel  to  the  brant  grows  in  water 
five  or  six  feet  deep  at  high  tide,  and,  as  these  birds  are 
not  divers,  they  can  only  feed  at  low  or  nearly  low  tide. 
Then,  as  the  flood  tide  drives  them  from  their  feeding 
grounds,  particularly  when  it  is  breezy,  the  birds  be- 
come uneasy  and  scatter  about  in  little  ''pods"  or  flocks, 
evidently  seeking  other  feeding  grounds  or  more  com- 
fortable quarters,  where  they  can  rest  till  the  tide  ebbs 
so  they  can  return  to  the  feast.  It  is  during  this  period 
— from  about  half  flood  to  half  ebb  tide — that  the  brant 
are  flitting  about  over  the  flats  and  likely  to  catch  sight 
of  and  be  lured  to  the  decoys;  and  it  is  during  these 
four  or  five  hours  each  day  that  the  shooting  is  done. 

The  time  for  the  brant  to  arrive  from  the  South  in 
spring  varies  considerably.  A  warm,  forward  spring 
brings  along  the  brant  in  considerable  numbers  by  the 
1st  of  March;  whereas,  a  backward  season  will  hardly 
make  good  shooting  before  the  end  of  the  month,  and 
by  the  25th  of  April  so  few  remain  as  to  offer  the 
sportsman  no  inducement  to  pursue  them  further, 
though  it  is  quite  probable  a  few  straggling  flocks  may 
be  seen  as  late  as  the  ist  or  even  the  loth  of  May.  Dur- 
ing this  period  they  are  constantly  coming  and  going. 


298  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

especially  when  the  wind  is  to  the  southward  and  west- 
ward. It  will  be  readily  observed  that  the  shooting 
season  at  best  only  extends  over  a  period  of  four  or  five 
weeks.  They  rarely  stop  at  this  place  in  autumn  on 
their  way  south,  and,  if  they  do,  are  not  fat  or  fit  for 
table  use.  The  birds,  on  arriving  in  the  spring,  enter 
the  bay  from  the  west  in  flocks  or  gaggles — varying 
from  a  few  individuals  up  to  several  hundred — at  no 
great  distance  from  the  mainland,  sometimes  passing 
directly  over,  not  deigning  to  stop,  even  though  their 
food  is  abundantly  spread  out  before  them  and  thou- 
sands of  their  less  suspicious  brethren  are  feeding  there, 
while  other  flocks  will  gradually  lower  themselves 
down,  swing  around  once  or  twice,  then  plunge  into  the 
liquid  element.  All  the  migratory  birds  that  follow  the 
coast  line  must  of  necessity  pass  this  point  both  spring 
and  fall.  Sometimes  they  lift  and  go  over  Nanset  Bar  or 
Monomoy  Island,  and  sometimes  they  pass  around  the 
southerly  end  of  the  island.  Cape  Malabar,  but  the  great 
mass  rise  to  a  safe  altitude,  strike  a  "bee  line"  east  by 
north,  and  pass  directly  over  this  strip  of  land.  We 
have  often  remarked  that  the  leader  of  each  flock  must 
have  a  pocket  compass  placed  in  the  top  of  his  head,  so 
unerringly  do  they  steer. 

One  would  naturally  suppose,  on  seeing  these  birds 
constantly  feeding  at  any  locality  along  the  shore,  it 
would  be  easy  enough  to  kill  them.  There  are  many 
such  places  up  and  down  our  coast,  but  for  reasons  very 
few  birds  can  be  killed.  At  the  mouth  of  Bass  River, 
many  brant  linger  and  feed  through  the  entire  season, 


BRANT   SHOOTING.  299 

but  there  are  no  "flats,"  no  points  where  boxes  can  be 
planted  and  successfully  worked ;  the  water  is  too  deep, 
the  shore  too  bluff,  and  the  brant  feed  only  at  low  tide. 
A  box  might  be  placed  on  the  feeding  ground,  and 
operated  for  a  short  time  during  each  low  tide,  but  the 
depth  of  water  in  the  immediate  vicinity  would  prevent 
the  recovery  of  cripples,  an  important  item  in  brant 
shooting ;  and,  moreover,  all  our  experience  teaches  us 
that  shooting  at  these  birds  on  their  feeding  ground 
soon  drives  them  to  other  quarters,  from  which  they 
would  never  return.  The  same  conclusion  was  arrived 
at  on  examining  the  harbor  of  Nantucket.  It  will  be 
found,  even  at  Chatham,  that  before  any  shooting  can 
be  done,  a  vast  amount  of  hard  work  is  to  be  performed. 
The  feeding  grounds  and  flats  are  so  far  from  the  town 
that  living  there  is  not  practicable,  and  a  shanty  or 
house  must  be  built  on  the  island.  Boxes  are  to  be 
made,  pens  constructed  for  holding  the  live  decoys,  and 
a  well  dug  for  fresh  water.  This  'Veil"  arrangement 
is  a  curiosity  to  the  uninitiated.  The  island,  where  the 
shanty  is  located,  is  not  over  two  hundred  yards  wide, 
but  of  undulating  surface,  i.  e.,  composed  of  little  hill- 
ocks and  valleys  or  basins.  If  a  hole  three  feet  deep  be 
dug  in  one  of  these  basins,  and  a  common  flour  barrel 
inserted,  it  will,  on  the  flood  tide,  partially  fill  with 
pure,  soft  water,  and  will  continue  to  rise  and  fall  with 
each  tide.  The  reason  of  this  is  that  rain  falls  upon 
this  porous  sand  and  percolates  till  it  reaches  salt  water, 
which,  being  of  greater  specific  gravity,  holds  or  buoys 
up  the  fresh  water. 


300  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

The  planting  of  the  boxes  is  a  job  no  one  man  can 
perform.  A  water-tight  box,  large  enough  to  accom- 
modate three  persons,  must  be  about  six  feet  long, 
three  and  a  half  wide,  and  two  and  a  half  deep.  One 
half  of  this  is  buried  in  the  flats ;  the  other  is  hidden  by 
sand  being  wheeled  and  piled  up  around  it.  Nor  is 
this  all — a  bar  twenty  or  thirty  yards  long  and  two  feet 
high  must  be  made  and  maintained,  for  the  decoys  to 
run  on  and  for  the  wild  ones  to  assemble  upon.  The 
sand  must  be  taken  at  low  tide  from  some  little  dis- 
tance, so  as  to  leave  the  flats  and  bar  moderately  smooth 
and  natural. 

There  is  an  enormous  tendency  in  this  Cape  Cod 
sand  to  seek  a  dead  level.  Three  hundred  wheelbarrow 
loads  may  be  to-day  piled  up  to  form  a  bar,  which  a 
high  tide  and  wind  will  to-morrow  send  back  to  its  nor- 
mal condition  of  inherent  dead  level.  Early  in  the  sea- 
son, before  the  bars  are  consolidated,  every  high  wind 
and  tide  does  more  or  less  damage  to  the  bars,  which 
must  be  repaired  before  the  box  can  be  used,  as  no 
brant  will  come  near  when  it  is  in  sight.  Almost  every 
newcomer  volunteers  a  plan  for  preserving  the  bars, 
such  as  bags  of  sand,  brush  or  stone  deposits,  piles 
driven  around,  concrete  and  canvas  coverings.  Some 
of  these  have  been  tried,  but,  on  the  whole,  without 
success. 

Another  desideratum  in  branting  is  live  decoys.  No 
visionary  enthusiast  need  lay  the  flattering  unction  to 
his  soul  that  without  these,  or  with  wood  decoys  alone, 
he  will  meet  any  degree  of  success.    Decoys  are  usually 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  3OI 

obtained  in  the  course  of  shooting  by  being  sHghtly 
wounded  in  the  wing,  when  a  phalanx  is  amputated  and 
the  bird  is  added  to  the  gaggle.  The  little  captives  will, 
when  placed  in  a  pen  with  the  old  ones,  commence  eat- 
ing corn,  their  usual  diet  while  in  captivity,  and,  al- 
though they  probably  never  before  saw  a  kernel  of 
corn,  they  thrive  well  on  this  simple  bill  of  fare.  Pre- 
sumably, in  their  normal  condition,  they  never  see 
fresh  water,  and  yet,  in  bondage,  this  is  their  only 
beverage.  Nor  do  they  seem  to  suffer  by  the  change. 
Another  peculiarity  about  them  in  captivity  is  that 
they  have  no  sexual  intercourse,  lay  no  eggs,  exhibit 
no  incubating  desire,  are  cold,  dignified  and  reserved, 
especially  toward  other  fowl,  nor  do  they  ever  become 
fully  domesticated. 

All  through  the  earlier  history  of  branting  at  this 
place,  and  up  to  about  1862,  the  business  was  carried 
on  by  'longshoremen,  who  associated  themselves  to- 
gether, for  convenience,  in  unorganized  clubs  of  from 
three  to  six  persons.  In  1863,  a  club  called  the  Mono- 
moy  Branting  Club,  consisting  of  four  resident  and 
fourteen  non-resident  members,  was  organized.  A  lit- 
tle later  another  club  was  formed,  and  still  later  a 
third;  but  neither  of  these  has  been  as  successful  as 
the  first,  probably  from  the  fact  that  the  most  avail- 
able shooting  points  were  occupied  before  they  entered 
the  field.  Of  all  the  immense  flats  we  have  previously 
described,  not  more  than  four  or  five  points  are  worth 
occupying,  and  from  a  single  one  of  these — the  ''Mud 
Hole" — about  as  many  brant  have  been  killed  as  from 


302  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

all  the  others  cornbined.  This  point  has  been  for  nearly 
half  a  century  occupied  by  one  family,  father  and  sons, 
until  their  interest  was  merged  in  the  Monomoy  Brant- 
ing  Club.  Fifty  years  ago,  when  flint-lock  guns  were 
in  use,  the  boxes  were  partly  covered  over,  to  prevent 
the  diving  fowl  from  catching  sight  of  the  flash,  and 
thus  escaping. 

The  guns  were  run  out  through  embrasures,  and  this 
method  necessitated  the  order,  "Ready! — one,  two — 
fire !"  It  was  discovered,  however,  when  the  birds  were 
with  the  decoys,  that  they  were  not  so  easily  fright- 
ened, and  all  this  roofing-in  arrangement  was  dispensed 
with,  more  particularly  after  the  invention  of  percus- 
sion caps„  As  we  have  been  connected  with  the  Mono- 
moy Branting  Club  from  its  birth,  our  remarks  hence- 
forth will  have  reference  more  especially  to  the  doings 
of  that  organization. 

In  forming  the  club,  it  was  arranged  that  the  non- 
resident members — persons  living  in  Boston  or  vicinity 
— should  build  and  furnish  a  shanty,  provide  boats, 
boxes  and  the  necessary  tools  for  carrying  forward  the 
enterprise,  while  the  resident  members — whose  homes 
were  at  Chatham — should  make  and  keep  in  repair  the 
boxes,  do  boating,  cooking,  taking  care  of  the  decoys, 
and  generally  looking  after  the  w^elfare  and  interests 
of  the  non-residents.  We  are  happy  to  add  that  the 
plan  has  worked  admirably,  and  to  the  entire  satisfac- 
tion of  both  "the  high  contracting  parties."  It  is  for 
the  time  being  a  sort  of  co-partnership,  the  non-resi- 
dents paying  a  stipulated  sum  for  board  and  privileges, 


BRANT    SHOOTING  303 

sharing  equally  with  the  residents  in  all  the  game  killed. 
A  shanty,  or  house,  12x16  feet,  was  built  and  furnished. 
This,  however,  was  found,  a  few  years  later,  to  be  too 
small  for  the  convenience  of  the  members  and  invited 
guests,  and  it  was  enlarged  to  double  its  original  ca- 
pacity, giving  ample  room  for  reading,  sleeping,  dining, 
cooking,  storage,  etc. 

We  will  now  suppose  the  shanty  to  be  in  perfect  run- 
ning order,  three  boxes — the  ''Mud  Hole,"  ''North 
Bar"  and  "Gravel" — generously  bestowed  in  their  re- 
spective bars,  fifteen  live  decoys  in  the  pen  at  the  sunny 
side  of  the  shanty,  ready  for  use. 

As  the  day  has  been  calm,  the  bars  are  in  good  condi- 
tion, and  the  prospects  are  favorable  that  Monday 
morning  will  usher  in  a  week  of  grand  sport.  It  will 
be  high  tide  at  7.15  A.  m.,  and  the  boxes  must  be  occu- 
pied by  5  o'clock.  The  alarm-clock,  which  acts  as  a  sort 
of  reveille,  is  set  at  4  o'clock,  and  brings  every  man  to 
his  feet.  A  hasty  repast  is  improvised,  while  each  gun- 
ner adorns  himself  with  his  coarse,  heavy  wool  clothing, 
oil  suit,  long  boots  and  woolen  mittens.  Three  decoys 
are  placed  in  each  basket,  and  it  is  astonishing  with 
what  precision  the  residents  will  seize  the  particular 
birds  that  are  to  be  worked  on  the  same  line,  as  there 
is  no  perceptible  difference  in  the  size,  plumage  or 
voices  of  the  sex.  The  boxes  are  distant  from  the 
shanty  as  follows:  "North  Bar,"  about  a  mile;  "Mud 
Hole,"  half  a  mile,  and  "Gravel,"  one-third  of  a  mile. 
As  the  North  Bar  is  lowest,  the  tide,  of  course, 
reaches  it  first ;  and  as  the  distance  from  the  shanty  is 


304  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

greater,  Reno,  who  is  as  constant  at  the  box  as  the 
North  Star  to  the  Pole,  must  start  first.  He  takes  with 
him  S.  and  H.  The  high  tide  of  the  previous  night  had 
filled  the  box,  which  must  be  bailed  out  ere  it  can  be  en- 
tered. The  decoys  are  then  fettered  and  allowed  to  run 
out  upon  the  bar,  and  as  the  water  is  making  around  us, 
they  rush  down  for  a  morning  bath,  which  they  seem  to 
enjoy  exceecimgly.  Washy,  who  has  for  some  years 
managed  the  Mud  Hole,  is  accompanied  by  M.  and 
the  doctor,  while  George,  with  \V.,  occupies  the 
Gravel.  The  parties  have  scarcely  got  well  placed 
when  a  small  "pod"  of  brant  come  flitting  along  toward 
the  North  Bar,  and  four  out  of  seven  were  knocked 
dow^n  by  S.  and  H.,  and  gathered.  ''What  is  that  black 
spot  away  down  to  the  southwest?"  asks  Reno,  after 
gazing  steadily  for  a  few  moments  in  that  direction. 
*Tt  looks  like  a  large  flock  of  brant,"  he  continues,  the 
spot  still  holding  his  eager  eyes.  ''Yes,  it  is  a  flock  of 
brant,  and  they  are  heading  for  us,"  he  adds.  As  the 
flock  comes  on  and  on,  nearer  and  nearer,  "Yes,"  he  ex- 
claims, "they  are  making  directly  for  us.  Now  they 
turn !  There — there  they  go,  right  for  the  Mud 
Hole,"  his  face  elongating  at  the  sight.  "Now,"  says 
S.,  "they  have  all  lighted  within  two  hundred  yards  of 
the  box,  and,  as  the  tide  is  still  flowing,  they  will  be 
likely  to  swim  in  and  give  the  boys  a  splendid  shot." 
Sure  enough,  they  soon  catch  sight  of  the  decoys  on  the 
bar  and  commence  swimming  for  that  point.  Only  one 
head  is  now  seen  above  the  bar.  The  resident  who 
manages  the  decoys  keeps  his  eyes  steadily  above  the 


BRANT   SHOOTING.  305 

edge  of  the  box  to  observe  what  transpires  and  report 
to  his  companions,  who  crouch  down  out  of  sight, 
especially  when  birds  are  approaching.  As  the  brant 
assemble  upon  and  around  the  bar,  the  observer  will  no- 
tice these  heads,  and  he  understands  the  leader  has  sig- 
nified to  his  associates  that  now  is  the  best  time  to 
shoot,  and  that  they  must  very  gently  raise  their  heads 
so  as  to  look  out  for  the  most  desirable  groups  to  shoot 
at,  and  yet  not  to  cross  the  fire  of  the  others.  The  or- 
der is  now  presumed  to  be  given  :  "Ready — one,  two — 
fire !"  The  first  discharge  should  be  simultaneous,  the 
second  at  will.  Then  the  box  is  suddenly  vacated,  and 
such  a  splashing  and  dashing  after  cripples,  which  are 
captured  first,  and  afterward,  on  the  way  in,  the  dead 
birds  are  picked  up.  ''A  big  shot,"  says  H.  ''About  a 
dozen,"  mutters  Reno,  who  is  never  sanguine.  "More," 
says  S.  "Can  tell  better  when  we  arrive  at  the  shanty," 
continues  Reno.  At  this  moment  several  sea  duck 
(Somateria  mollissima)  come  puffing  along  and  at- 
tempt to  pass  the  North  Bar,  when,  quick  as  thought, 
the  three  guns  were  aimed,  and  three  eiders  were  float- 
ing on  the  flood,  while  a  fourth  was  struck  hard,  but 
managed  to  escape. 

The  tide  is  fast  making  over  the  bar,  now  "boring' 
up,  now  falling  off  again.  "Shall  we  be  driven?"  asks 
H.  "If  it  continues  to  flow  hard  we  probably  shall,'* 
responds  Reno.  Again  it  "bores,"  and  a  wavelet  enters 
the  box.  The  decoys  are  now  unfettered  and  placed  in 
the  basket.  Another  wave  forces  the  party  to  mount 
the  top  of  the  bar.    Here  is  the  dread  alternative,  either 


3o6  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

to  retreat  to  the  shanty  or  stand  on  the  bar  for  a  long 
hour,  till  the  tide  ebbs  so  that  they  can  re-enter.  As 
the  road  lies  between  the  Mud  Hole  and  Gravel,  and 
so  no  shooting  can  be  done  at  either  during  the  passage, 
it  is  decided  to  stand  it  out.  Usually  on  being  driven 
when  the  Gravel  is  untenanted  they  ''fleet"  thither.  At 
high  tide,  when  the  wind  blows  fresh,  the  birds  are 
skipping  about  pretty  lively,  and  some  very  good  shots 
are  likely  to  be  made.  A  flock  of  about  twenty  brant 
drew  near  the  Mud  Hole,  and  was  greeted  by  a  salute 
of  six  guns,  and  seven  dead  were  left  to  be  gathered, 
beside  one  "wing-tip,"  which  gave  Washy  a  hard  pull 
to  overhaul. 

As  soon  as  the  tide  ebbed  so  that  the  North  Bar  could 
be  bailed  out,  the  party  re-enter,  put  out  decoys  and 
proceed  to  business ;  nor  were  they  long  idle.  "Is  that 
a  little  black  cloud  or  flock  of  birds  away  down  there 
toward  Harwich  Point?"  asks  H.  Reno,  although  re- 
markably vigilant,  is  not  particularly  long-sighted,  and 
did  not  at  first  take  in  the  situation ;  but  after  a  while 
the  little  spot,  as  it  moved  slowly  along,  apparently 
close  to  the  water,  attracted  his  eye.  "Oh,  yes,  I  see," 
and  the  little  dark  cloud  grew  bigger  and  bigger  as 
nearer  and  nearer  it  came.  "Yes,  it  is  a  large  flock  of 
brant  coming  right  for  our  bar,"  giving  the  decoy  line 
a  jerk  at  the  same  time.  On,  on  they  come.  "Down, 
down!"  he  cries,  and  two  of  the  heads  disappear. 
"They  are  now  very  near,"  he  continues.  "There  they 
swing  around ;  now  we  have  them ;  they  are  all  in  the 
water."    The  two  heads,  after  a  few  minutes  of  awful 


BRANT   SHOOTING.  307 

suspense,  are  slowly  raised,  and  two  pair  of  astonished 
eyes  behold  a  hundred  and  fifty  brant  swimming  hither 
and  thither,  coquetting  and  playing  together,  entirely 
innocent  of  danger„  Gradually  they  work  their  way 
along  to  the  southward  of  the  box,  spreading  about, 
some  quite  near  and  others  more  remote.  At  length 
they  come  together  very  handsomely  within  forty  yards 
of  the  box.  ''Now  is  our  time,"  whispers  Reno.  "Are 
you  ready?"  he  nervously  continues.  An  affirmative 
response  is  made,  and  he  gives  the  order,  'Tut  over! 
One,  two — fire!"  Bang!  bang!  go  the  six  barrels: 
splash !  splash !  go  the  three  pairs  of  long  boots.  The 
dead  and  wounded  are  gathered  in  with  all  possible  de- 
spatch, and  but  for  one  cripple  the  work  would  have 
been  quickly  done.  This  one,  however,  gave  Reno  a 
fearful  jatnt. 

Away  went  our  black- footed  hero,  paddling  for  dear 
life  toward  the  North  Pole,  and  away  went  Reno  in 
pursuit.  The  pursuer  had  not  the  benefit  of  a  long  pair 
of  legs,  though  he  had  excellent  pluck,  while  the  pur- 
sued was  blessed  with  a  splendid  pair  for  the  work  be- 
fore him.  Now  the  brant  seemed  to  gain  on  his  pur- 
suer, anxil  now  Reno  on  the  object  of  his  pursuit.  S.  and 
H.  watched  with  breathless  anxiety  this  little  episode 
incident  to  branting.  These  birds  are  not  divers,  but 
stand  up  bravely  till  their  pursuer  is  quite  near,  when 
they  plunge  in  and  swim  under  water;  but  they  make 
slow  progress,  and  are  then  easily  captured.  Placing 
his  bird  under  his  arm,  he  slowly  returns.  *'Big  shot," 
says  S.    ''How  many?"  inquires  Reno,  as  he  jumps  into 


308  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  box  and  puts  the  decoy  in  the  basket.  "Twenty- 
three,"  instantly  rejoin  both  S.  and  H.,  "and  one  crip- 
ple, which  makes  twenty-four,"  "and  this  beats  any  shot 
of  the  season,"  he  rejoins,  at  the  same  time  seating  him- 
self and  commencing  to  fill  his  pipe.  After  such  a  big 
shot  a  great  many  wise  remarks  are  volunteered,  a  great 
many  suggestions  made  which  are  to  apply  to  the  fu- 
ture, but  the  future  always  brings  with  it  an  enormous 
amount  of  vitality.  As  this  conversation  was  vehem- 
ently progressing  a  flock  of  seven  brant  came  up  behind 
the  box,  caught  sight  of  the  decoys,  swung  round  twice ; 
but  as  the  tide  was  nearly  off  the  flats,  and  as  they 
rarely  light  except  in  water,  it  was  thought  best  to 
"give  it  to  them."  Four  fell  dead,  while  a  fifth  dropped 
too  wide  out  to  be  recovered.  This  was  the  last  shot, 
and  as  the  other  parties  had  long  since  gone  in,  Reno 
concluded  to  "take  up."  The  dead  birds  are  tied  in 
bunches,  and  thrown  over  their  shoulders  or  across  the 
guns,  and,  amid  mutual  congratulations,  the  party 
proudly  set  out  for  the  shanty. 

Only  four  shots  were  fired  at  the  Gravel.  At  first 
a  flock  of  nine  brant  came  and  alighted  near  the  point 
of  the  bar,  and  as  they  "bunched  up"  five  of  them  were 
murdered  in  cold  blood.  Then  a  pair  whirled  round 
over  the  bar,  apparently  reconnoitering,  but  this  temer- 
ity cost  them  their  lives.  The  third  shot  was  at  a  big 
loon  (Gaz'ia  imher),  by  George,  and  he  was  hand- 
somely knocked  down  at  eighty-three  yards.  A  lone 
sheldrake  closed  the  morning's  work,  and  the  party 
retired.    As  soon  as  Reno  entered  the  shanty  he  asks : 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  309 

''How  many  did  you  get,  Washy,  at  that  first  shot?" 
''Seventeen  and  two  decoys,"  was  the  cool  reply.  "I 
hardly  thought  you  got  as  many,"  rejoins  Reno. 
"Ought  to  have  had  thirty,"  growls  Washy;  "and  we 
should  if  I  could  have  kept  the  doctor  down."  And 
they  all  gathered  around  the  breakfast  table,  as  full  of 
chatter  and  merriment  as  a  pack  of  monkeys.  "What 
does  the  morning's  work  foot  up?"  asks  H.,  as  the 
record  must  be  entered  in  the  journal.  "Well,  here  it 
is :  Mud  Hole,  27 ;  North  Bar,  32 ;  Gravel,  7 ;  a  grand 
total  of  66  brant."  The  evening  tide  is  worthless,  and 
there  will  be  no  more  shooting  till  Tuesday  morning. 
That  night  a  fresh  breeze  sprang  up  from  the  south- 
west, bringing  along  a  great  many  brant,  and,  more- 
over, doing  some  damage  to  the  bars;  but  there  is  no 
time  in  the  morning  for  "sand  rolling,"  and  they  must 
be  hastily  patched  up  for  the  nonce. 

Tuesday  morning,  all  hands  up  at  4  o'clock,  lunch, 
and  start  for  the  boxes  in  the  following  order :  First 
Reno,  with  W.  and  the  doctor,  for  the  North  Bar ;  next, 
Washy,  at  his  old  haunt,  the  Mud  Hole,  with  M.  and  H. 
as  companions,  and,  last,  GeOrge  and  S.  occupy  tl:e 
Gravel. 

As  the  birds  enter  the  bay  mostly  from  the  westward, 
the  boxes  all  face  that  point  of  the  compass.  Scarcely 
had  the  last  party  put  out  the  decoys,  deposited  the  bas- 
ket in  the  box,  and  comfortably  seated  themselves, 
when  a  flock  of  about  seventy-five  brant  came  pushing 
their  way  along  up  from  the  southward  and  lighted  in 
the  dark  water  near  Mud  Hole. 


3IO  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

"Will  they  swim  up  with  the  tide?"  asks  M. 

"Fine  chance  for  them — it  is  flowing  rapidly." 
Washy  answered,  as  the  brant  were  playing,  chasing 
each  other  and  picking  up  floating  eel  grass. 

Now  they  turn  and  head  for  the  bar,  now  sag  away 
again.  Again  the  birds  set  toward  the  box.  "Down, 
down !"  cries  Washy,  and  he  alone  is  the  "observed  of 
all  observers."  On  again  they  come,  swimming  hither 
and  thither  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  three  throb- 
bing hearts.  Now  again  they  halt,  then  retreat,  as 
though  they  were  suspicious  all  was  not  right.  At  last 
one  old  "honker"  starts  for  the  live  decoys,  which  have 
to  be  occasionally  jerked  by  the  check-cord  to  make 
them  "show  wing." 

"Yes,"  says  Washy,  "he  is  coming  right  on  to  the 
point  of  the  bar,  and  the  whole  flock  are  following." 

At  this  juncture  of  affairs  another  flock  of  forty 
sprang  up  from  the  westward,  shimmered  along,  swung 
round  and  lighted  with  the  main  body.  "R-ronk, 
r-ronk,"  ring  a  hundred  voices;  "Ruk-ruk,"  as  many 
more — and  such  tumult  and  confusion!  The  guide 
quickly  conveys  the  cheering  intelligence  that  many  of 
the  brant  are  so  far  on  the  bar  as  to  get  "toe-hold,"  and 
the  others  are  in  moderate  proximity.  These  birds  are 
quite  vigilant,  and  any  sudden  movement  would  in- 
stantly send  them  beyond  the  possibility  of  a  hope  of 
recovery. 

"Raise  your  heads  slowly,"  says  Washy,  and  the  two 
heads  are  gradually  elevated  to  the  level  of  the  third, 
when  lo!  the  bar  is  dark  as  Erebus  with  the  waving 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  311 

mass.  A  few  moments  of  nervous  consultation  as  to 
the  best  group  for  each  to  fire  at,  and  the  guide  whis- 
pers, ''Get  ready!"  Just  at  this  moment  the  birds 
spread  suddenly  about  and  frustrate  the  plans,  pro- 
ducing dreadful  uncertainty  for  a  few  seconds,  but  they 
soon  "bunch  up"  again,  and  the  word  was  given :  'Tut 
over !  Ready !  Fire !"  The  smoke  of  six  guns  wreathes 
its  way  heavenward ;  out  jump  the  two — splash !  splash ! 
— away  they  go.  Washy  takes  a  breech-loader  along 
with  him  to  knock  over  any  wing-tipped  birds  that  can- 
not otherwise  be  gathered.  One  "old  honker,"  with 
just  a  little  bit  of  a  muscle  of  the  carpus  pricked  by  a 
stray  pellet,  is  pulling  foot  for  the  dark,  deep  water  off 
Harding's  Beach.  No  non-resident  would  undertake 
to  chase  a  strong  bird  half  a  mile,  and,  if  he  did,  he 
would  certainly  fail.  The  motion  of  the  waves  ovei 
the  white  sand  brings  a  dizziness  to  one  not  accustomed 
to  this  work,  and  makes  him  feel  every  moment  as 
though  he  was  about  to  "topple  over  headlong."  Far 
different  is  it  with  the  guide  or  leader,  who  has  spent 
his  whole  life  upon  the  water.  Away  goes  our  little 
winged  hero,  following  closely  is  our  stalwart  guide. 
Further  on  and  further  still  they  go,  almost  out  of 
sight.  On  the  way  out  Washy  had  gathered  two  or 
three  dead  birds,  which  he  still  held  in  his  hand,  and 
when  within  about  a  rod  of  the  live  bird  he  throws  one 
of  the  dead,  to  frighten  the  living,  so  that  he  will  dive 
and  turn  two  or  three  somersaults  in  a  bewildered  con- 
dition, so  that  his  pursuer  rushes  forward  and  captures 
him.    In  the  meantime  the  dead  and  wounded  had  been 


312  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

gathered,  the  bar  smoothed  off,  ready  for  another  crack 
at  them. 

''How  many?''  asks  Washy,  as  he  stops  to  take 
breath. 

''Nineteen  and  two  decoys — twenty-one  all  told," 
quickly  responds  H. 

"Well  done,"  says  Washy,  and  it  seemed  to  give  him 
a  heap  of  comfort  as  he  placed  that  decoy  in  the  basket. 

"But  look,  you,"  says  M. ;  "there  go  nine  right  up  for 
the  North  Bar." 

"Precisely !"  ejaculates  Washy,  hardly  yet  recovered 
from  his  long  tramp.  Puff,  puff !  Away  out  in  the  dim 
distance  rises  the  smoke,  and  the  flock  is  reduced  to 
four.  Not  much  time  elapsed  before  a  brace  of  black 
ducks  {Anas  ohscura)  were  swimming  in  for  the 
Gravel.  The  guns  were  brought  to  bear,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  they  were  quietly  reposing  on  the  bottom  of 
the  box.  The  brant  had  for  some  time  been  feedmg  in 
the  channel  between  Monomoy  and  Nanset.  The  regu- 
lar feeding  ground  extends  from  near  the  Mud  Hole  to 
the  inner  point,  a  distance  of  two  miles.  In  passing 
from  one  to  the  other,  as  they  do  on  each  tide,  feeding 
in  the  channel  at  high  tide  and  at  Inner  Point  at  low 
tide,  they  are  very  likely  to  receive  a  salute  as  they  pass 
in  review  before  the  boxes„  A  shot  from  the  Gravel 
started  a  large  flock  from  the  inner  harbor,  and  as  they 
lifted  and  moved  majestically  along  westward,  it  was 
like  a  huge  black  cloud,  so  thick  and  dark.  On  it  moved 
toward  the  Gravel,  and,  strange  to  say,  notwithstand- 
ing the  water  was  quite  shoal,  and  in  some  places  near- 


BRANT    SHOOTING.  313 

ly  off  the  flats,  they  all  dumped  down  a  little  distance 
from  the  bar.  Some  were  within  gunshot  of  the  box. 
What  was  to  be  done?  A  thousand  brant,  all  within 
180  yards  of  the  two  well-charged  guns!  As  the  tide 
was  fast  leaving  the  flats,  and  the  birds  could  walk 
around  anywhere,  and,  moreover,  as  they  began  to 
stretch  up  their  necks  and  show  signs  of  suspicion,  it 
was  thought  best  to  fire  as  soon  as  they  should  come 
together  and  offer  a  favorable  opportunity  for  a  good 
shot.  This  they  soon  did,  and  George  gave  the  order, 
and  the  other  two  guns  belched  forth  fire  and  smoke. 
Easy  task  to  gather  up  the  thirteen  dead  birds  that  lay 
upon  the  water.  Scarcely  was  the  shot  made  on  the 
Gravel  when  Washy' s  eye  seemed  to  be  riveted  to  the 
western  horizon.  After  a  few  minutes,  as  if  almost 
doubting  the  correctness  of  his  own  eyes,  he  says : 

''There  is  a  flock  of  sea  ducks  coming  this  way,  I 
think.  No,  they  are  brant,"  he  continues,  with  much 
straining  of  the  visual  organs.  After  a  few  moments' 
pause,  he  bursts  out  again :  'T  declare,  they  are  Soma- 
teria  mollissima,  coming  right  straight  for  the  box !" 

*They  look  to  me  more  like  brant,"  says  M. 

''No,"  remarks  Washy;  "don't  you  see  how  steadily 
they  fly,  and  so  close  to  the  water?" 

On  they  came  till  within  about  eighty  yards  of  the 
box,  when  their  keen  eyes  caught  sight  of  some  move- 
ment— most  likely  the  nervous  motion  of  cocking  the 
guns  and  getting  ready  for  the  reception.  They  all 
suddenly  wheeled  to  the  southward  with  as  much  pre- 
cision and  regularity  as  a  file  of  soldiers.     A  grand 


314  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

fusillade  of  six  guns  ensued,  but  only  one  bird  was  left 
to  remind  the  gunners  of  the  wariness  of  these  sea 
rovers. 

The  tide  was  now  ebbing  fast,  and  George  had  taken 
up  his  decoys  and  retired.  A  pair  of  brant  came  down 
by  the  North  Bar  directly  for  the  Mud  Hole,  and  as 
they  approached,  seemed  to  slacken  up,  as  if  to  inspect 
the  works  or  be  introduced  to  the  decoys,  and  as  they 
drew  close  together  were  both  let  down  by  the  unerring 
aim  of  Washy,  with  a  single  gun.  Then  a  lone  brant 
was  despatched  by  M.  A  single  sheldrake,  which,  as 
the  tide  was  off  the  flats,  was  easily  gathered,  and  this 
ended  the  morning's  sport  at  this  bar. 

The  wind,  which  at  early  morn  was  southwest,  a  lit- 
tle later  veered  to  westward,  blowing  fresh,  and  doing 
much  damage  to  the  bars,  which  must  be  repaired  be- 
fore they  are  in  working  condition,  and  the  residents, 
with  such  as  would  volunteer,  went  out  after  dinner 
for  that  purpose,  with  barrows  and  shovels.  The  bars 
are  likely,  on  a  high  tide  and  strong  westerly  wind,  to 
be  shifted  from  the  front  to  the  rear  of  the  box,  but,  as 
the  party  cannot  wait  for  the  next  east  wind  to  trans- 
port it  back,  it  must  be  done  by  main  strength.  Roll- 
boards  are  laid  from  a  distance  of  two  or  three  rods, 
the  barrows  are  filled,  rolled  upon  the  boards,  and  are 
dumped  upon  the  bar,  then  leveled  to  give  it  an  even 
appearance,  and  the  work  is  done.  On  this  particular 
occasion  the  Mud  Hole  received  one  hundred  and  sev- 
enty-five of  these  raw  recruits,  and  it  is  splendid  exer- 
cise— almost  equal  to  dragging  a  hand-sled  up  a  long 


BRANT    SHOOTING,  315 

hill,  with  a  prospect  of  a  ''coast"  down  again.  It  is  also 
an  excellent  specific  against  dyspepsia,  strengthens  the 
muscles,  expands  the  lungs,  purifies  the  blood,  and 
brings  in  its  train  that  sweet  repose — that  blessed  slum- 
ber— entirely  unknown  to  indolent  persons.  The  bars 
are  now  in  good  order  and  ready  for  the  morning's 
sport. 

It  is  observed  on  the  branting  grounds  of  Cape 
Cod,  Mass.,  that  in  seasons  when  there  are  few  young 
brant  there  is  practically  no  shooting.  The  old  birds 
that  visit  Cape  Cod  year  after  year  become  perfectly 
familiar  with  boxes,  bars,  boats,  batteries,  decoys,  and 
other  contrivances  used  by  gunners  for  their  destruc- 
tion. The  birds  seem  to  understand  perfectly  what 
the  little  piles  of  sand,  with  the  brant  decoys  and  the 
wooden  decoys  about  them,  mean,  and  give  the  place  a 
wide  berth. 

If,  however,  the  young  predominate  in  a  flock, 
they  will  come  to  the  decoys,  even  though  to  do  so 
they  may  have  to  separate  themselves  from  the  main 
bunch.  Often  they  will  succeed  in  turning  the  flock 
and  in  drawing  some  or  all  of  the  old  ones  after  them. 
When  this  happens,  the  birds  sometimes  come  up  in 
such  numbers  that  the  gunner  may  knock  over  twenty  .t 
or  more  at  a  shot. 

In  order  to  complete  the  history  of  the  Monomoy 
Branting  Club  up  to  the  year  1900,  Mr.  William  Avery 
Cary,  the  able  secretary  of  the  club,  has  very  kindly 
furnished  me  with  the  accompanying  memorandum  of 
the  consolidation  of  the  three  clubs  at  Monomoy,  and 


3l6  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

of  the  somewhat  changed  methods  prevaiHng  there  at 
the  present  time.     He  says  : 

Up  to  June,  1897,  the  shooting  was  carried  on  by 
three  clubs,  the  Monomoy,  Providence  and  Manchester, 
so-called,  during  a  season  of  five  weeks,  the  Monomoy 
taking  three  weeks  and  the  Manchester  and  Providence 
one  each.  At  that  time  the  membership  of  the  Mono- 
moy proper  was  only  fifteen.  On  the  date  mentioned 
such  of  the  Providence  and  Manchester  members  as 
w^ere  left  took  shares  in  the  Monomoy  Club,  the  num- 
ber of  shares  being  increased  to  twenty-five  and  the 
number  of  boxes  to  five. 

The  feed  having  changed  so  that  the  birds  did  not 
come  in  to  shore  as  in  the  past,  we  w^ere  obliged  to  push 
the  boxes  further  out,  and  where  it  became  necessary, 
on  account  of  the  strong  tides  and  the  high  waves  and 
strong  winds,  to  cover  some  of  the  boxes  with  canvas, 
thereby  precluding  the  use  of  live  decoys,  except  in  the 
very  mildest  of  weather.  We  then  found  that  they 
were  not  acting  satisfactorily  under  the  unnatural  foot- 
ing of  canvas. 

The  birds  gradually  became  more  shy,  and  appreciat- 
ing that  they  were  of  a  gregarious  nature,  we  largely 
increased  the  number  of  our  w^ooden  decoys,  so  that 
where  we  used  to  have  twenty-five  or  fifty  birds  to  a 
box  we  now  have  about  two  hundred  decoys,  which  has 
materially  helped  our  scores. 


DUCK  SHOOTING. 


PASS  SHOOTING. 


Of  all  methods  of  duck  shooting,  that  known  as  pass 
shooting  is  perhaps  the  most  difficult  and  the  most 
sportsmanlike.  The  gunner  stations  himself  at  some 
point  where  the  ducks  are  likely  to  fly,  and  shoots  them 
as  they  pass  over  him.  This  point  may  be  between  two 
lakes  or  two  portions  of  a  single  lake,  or  between  roost- 
ing and  feeding  ground,  or  perhaps  only  near  some 
lake  at  which  the  birds  stop  on  their  migrations.  At  all 
events,  most  of  the  shooting  is  overhead  at  swiftly  fly- 
ing birds,  and  great  skill  and  judgment  are  required  to 
make  a  satisfactory  bag. 

Sometimes  the  gunner  stands  behind  some  cover  of 
bushes,  or  he  may  sit  or  kneel  in  a  pit  dug  in  the  ground, 
or  at  times,  if  the  birds  are  newly  arrived,  and  so  are 
unsuspicious,  he  may  stand  out  in  plain  view.  How- 
ever he  may  be  concealed,  if  the  shooter  has  been  for- 
tunate enough  to  secure  a  position  in  the  direct  line  of 
flight,  he  will  have  interesting  shooting,  and  will  prob- 
ably receive  some  new  ideas  as  to  the  swiftness  with 
which  a  duck  passes  through  the  air. 

Graphic  accounts  of  this  method  of  shooting  have 
often  been  published.  One  of  the  best  of  these  which 
has  appeared  in  recent  years,  is  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  E. 
Hough,  in  Forest  and  Stream,  in  which  he  describes 

317 


3l8  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

a  day's  shooting,  in   1897,  in  North  Dakota,  as  fol- 
lows : 

At  the  head  of  the  Dead  Buffalo  Lake  there  is  a  nar- 
row strip  of  water  separating  it  from  a  smaller  lake 
above,  and  between  this  little  sheltered  basin  and  the 
wide,  deep  water,  where  the  wild  celery  grows,  there  is 
a  more  or  less  constant  flight  of  ducks.  We  put  out  our 
team  and  hastened  quietly  as  we  could  down  to  this 
fly-way,  seeking  not  to  alarm  the  birds  till  we  had 
taken  our  stand  on  the  ridge  between  the  lakes,  where 
the  rushes  grow  much  higher  than  a  man's  head  and 
run  out  almost  entirely  across  the  narrow  channel. 
One  of  the  dogs  ran  on  ahead  of  us,  and  even  before  we 
could  run  over  to  the  pass,  there  arose  an  enormous 
black  cloud  of  ducks,  which  began  to  stream  over  the 
pass  and  to  spread  out  over  the  big  lake  below. 

Each  of  us  had  his  pockets  full  of  shells,  and  before 
we  had  deployed  as  skirmishers  across  the  pass  the 
pockets  began  to  empty.  The  ducks  came  in  a  constant 
stream,  without  intermission  for  many  minutes,  nearly 
all  of  them  low  and  almost  in  our  faces,  and  with  that 
velocity  of  flight  seen  nowhere  except  on  a  duck  pass. 
The  four  of  us,  with  shouts  and  calls  and  eager  vocifer- 
ations of  "Mark!  mark!  mark!"  poured  in  such  fire  as 
we  could.  Mr.  Bowers  cut  down  his  first  two  birds 
after  his  regular  style,  and  Gokey,  wading  out  into  the 
middle  of  the  channel,  began  to  fold  up  birds  with  the 
smoothness  of  the  old-time  shot.  I  came  near  stopping 
my  own  gun  to  watch  the  sport  of  duck  shooting  on  the 


PASS   SHOOTING.  319 

pass,  which  I  consider  to  be  one  of  the  most  difficult 
and  exciting  forms  of  shooting.  High  up  in  the  air  the 
passing  bird  would  suddenly  close  up,  its  head  falling 
back,  and  come  down  like  a  stone  with  an  excellent 
great  splash.  For  the  Chief,  I  can  say  he  was  diligent, 
and  often  I  saw  him  cut  down  his  duck,  sometimes  drop- 
ping it  at  his  feet  as  he  stood  on  the  dry  ground.  Both 
the  Chief  and  myself  were  raw  at  first  on  the  pass,  but 
after  the  flurry  we  got  down  to  it  and  shot  with  our 
average  of  badness,  I  suppose.  All  of  us  killed  ducks, 
many  ducks,  so  many  and  in  such  mingled  fashion  that 
for  a  time  no  one  could  tell  whose  duck  it  was  that  fell 
out  of  the  flight  under  the  pattering  fusillade.  The  re- 
trievers were  busy  wading  and  swimming,  and  we,  too, 
at  times,  paused  to  pick  up  a  bird  or  so.  In  half  an  hour 
the  flight  slackened,  and  we  stopped  to  take  account. 
Many  of  our  birds  fell  back  of  us  in  the  water,  and 
unless  killed  stone  dead  such  birds  were  as  good  as  lost ; 
for  they  would  dive  and  disappear  as  soon  as  they  got 
to  the  water.  We  could  see  that  many  of  our  ducks  were 
canvas-backs  and  redheads.  I  shall  make  it  short  by 
saying  that  the  first  hurried  flight  did  not  last  long,  and 
that  during  the  day,  which  came  off  very  hot,  the  birds 
did  not  move  much,  Gokey  very  wisely  declining  to  g 
out  and  stir  them  up,  as  he  said  that  would  drive  them 
off  their  feeding  beds  and  cause  them  to  leave  the  lake. 
The  evening  was  still,  and  the  birds  did  not  move  as  we 
had  expected.  Moreover,  we  were  most  of  us  tired  and 
sleepy,  and  not  disposed  to  kill  everything  in  sight. 
After  we  had  picked  up  our  dead  and  found  such  of  the 


320  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

cripples  as  we  could,  we  had  somewhere  between  thirty 
and  forty  ducks,  I  believe,  nearly  a  dozen  and  a  half  of 
which  were  fine  fat  canvas-backs  and  redheads.  This 
we  voted  plenty  good  enough  for  us. 

Not  so  Gokey.  Both  he  and  Bowers  declared  we  had 
seen  no  shooting  at  all.  They  held  conference,  and  soon 
announced  that  on  the  following  day  we  must  be  pre- 
pared for  a  long  ride.  We  were  to  go  to  the  famous 
Chase  Pass,  about  twenty-four  miles  northeast  of  Daw- 
son, and  to  see  what  both  these  gentlemen  declared  to  be 
the  best  flight  of  ducks  in  the  whole  country. 

Here  again  I  am  obliged  to  say  that  the  representa- 
tions held  out  did  not  begin  to  equal  the  reality.  The 
Chief  and  myself  have  traveled  a  little  in  this  big  coun- 
try of  America,  and  have  seen  ducks  all  the  way  from 
British  America  to  Mexico,  yet  never,  even  on  the  Gulf 
coast  of  Texas,  did  we  ever  see  so  many  ducks,  such 
comfortable,  obliging  ducks,  and  ducks  so  accessible 
and  incessant.  It  was  a  wonderful  sight  of  wildfowl — 
one  of  those  sights  which  make  the  unthinking  say  that 
there  are  ''just  as  many  ducks  now  as  there  ever  were." 
Gokey  said  this  was  always  a  great  place  for  ducks,  but 
that  this  year  the  birds  were  more  numerous  than  for 
many  years  previous,  thanks  to  high  water  and  to  the 
license  law,  which  cut  off  the  non-resident  market 
shooting  and  reduced  that  of  game  hogs  who  knew  no 
moderation.  Gokey  said  that  up  to  the  past  two  years 
it  was  a  daily  sight  at  Dawson  station  to  see  the  entire 
platform  lined  with  ducks  waiting  for  the  train  to  bear 
them  out  of  the  State.     He  said  that  in  warm  weather 


PASS   SHOOTING.  321 

it  was  no  unusual  thing  to  see  two  or  three  wagon  loads 
of  spoiled  ducks  hauled  out  into  the  country  and 
dumped  into  a  coulee.  He  seemed  to  take  comfort  in 
the  hope  of  better  things.  Both  he  and  Warden  Bow- 
ers are  assured  of  the  wisdom  of  the  non-resident  act, 
whatever  the  non-resident  himself  may  think  about  it. 
T  think  both  the  Chief  and  myself  would  be  disposed 
now  to  say  that  if  a  shooter  can  in  any  way  afiford  it,  it 
would  pay  him  better  to  pay  his  $25  in  North  Dakota, 
where  he  can  get  some  shooting  and  where  the  birds  are 
not  being  destroyed  in  such  quantities  for  the  markets, 
than  to  go  to  some  more  liberal  but  more  illy-stocked 
State  for  a  sporting  trip.  I  know  this  license  law  has 
stopped  much  shooting  and  cut  off  much  non-resident 
travel  to  North  Dakota,  for  the  gun  stores  of  St.  Paul 
and  Minneapolis  complain  that  it  has  hurt  their  trade 
with  sportsmen  who  outfit  for  shooting  trips  to  the 
Northwest.  Even  the  railroads  don't  like  the  law,  for 
it  lessens  their  traffic.  The  ducks,  however,  are  to  be 
congratulated  upon  it,  and  so  are  those  whose  fate  en- 
ables them  to  get  a  look  in  at  one  of  the  greatest  re- 
maining sporting  grounds  of  America. 

It  was  1 1 :45  in  the  morning  when  our  long  ride  over 
the  easy  prairies  came  to  a  pause  at  the  famous  Chase 
Pass.  From  the  high  ridge  which  rims  in  this  valley 
we  looked  down  and  saw  two  great  lakes,  each  reaching 
away  four  or  five  miles  from  the  point  of  view,  each 
perhaps  half  a  mile  or  more  across.  Between  these  two 
bodies  of  clear  water  there  stretched  a  high  ridge  of 
hard,  dry  ground,  apparently  a  quarter  of  a  mile  across 


322  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

from  water  to  water,  and  about  40  feet  above  the  sur- 
face of  the  water  at  the  summit  of  the  ridge.  There 
was  a  Hght  wind  moving,  and  the  water  was  rippled 
and  moving,  so  that  we  could  see  no  ducks  at  first.  As 
we  drove  down  nearer  to  the  bank  we  caught  sight  of 
thousands  of  black,  bobbing  figures,  all  over  the  whole 
face  of  the  waters.  In  shore,  and  now  not  over  a  few 
hundreds  of  yards  from  us,  there  rested  upon  the  bars 
literally  a  black  mass  of  ducks,  thousands  upon  thou- 
sands. This  is  not  the  enthusiasm  of  a  man  who  has 
never  seen  many  birds  before,  but  is  the  literal  and  calm 
truth.  I  never  in  my  life  have  seen  so  great  a  body  of 
wildfowl  at  one  time.  Soon  the  birds  began  to  soar  up 
and  circle  blackly  about,  and  in  time  the  air  was  dark 
with  a  countless  multitude  of  circling,  twisting  and 
turning  fowl,  each  bunch  with  a  different  direction 
from  the  others.     It  was  enough  to  drive  one  crazy. 

Neither  Bowers  nor  Gokey  showed  any  signs  of  los- 
ing his  mind,  though  I  feared  for  the  Chief.  For  my 
own  part,  I  have  -a  vague  recollection  that  I  stood  upon 
one  foot  while  the  team  was  being  turned  out  and  the 
deliberate  preparations  made  for  the  hunt. 

"Take  plenty  of  shells,"  was  about  all  the  advice 
Warden  Bowers  had  to  offer.  ''You'll  need  them  all, 
for  you  won't  kill  every  shot." 

So  we  took  each  a  back  load  and  hurried  off  to  the 
pass  over  which  the  birds  were  streaming.  We  had 
been  told  that  on  this  pass,  no  matter  what  the  weather, 
the  ducks  fly  all  day  long.  This  we  did  not  believe,  but 
set  down  as  ''ag'in  natur'."     Yet  we  found  it  true  this 


PASS   SHOOTING.  323 

day  at  least,  though  the  morning  started  in  very  fair 
and  warm. 

We  found  that  a  series  of  pits  had  been  dug  along  the 
ridge,  a  few  feet  below  the  summit,  deep  enough  so  that 
the  shooter  would  be  concealed  when  he  crouched  down. 
In  tliese  pits  we  saw  many  old  shells,  but  these  were 
weather-beaten  and  showed  to  be  those  of  last  year. 
We  were  the  first  to  shoot  on  this  wonderful  pass  in  the 
wonderful  duck  year  of  1897. 

Gokey  took  the  furthest  pit.  Bowers  next  to  him, 
then  myself,  then  the  Chief,  who  thus  was  furthest  to 
the  left  as  he  faced  to  the  west,  from  which  direction 
the  first  flight  came.  We  hurried  under  many  passing 
flocks  as  we  trotted  into  the  firing  line,  and  as  soon  as 
we  got  located  each  began  to  shoot.  The  ducks  were 
most  accommodating,  and  came  to  us  at  first  in  a  vast 
mass,  out  of  which  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  pick  out 
any  individual  birds.  The  speed  of  the  flight  was  ter- 
rific, and  the  hiss  of  the  wings  cutting,  low  and  close  or 
whispering  high  overhead,  was  never  absent  from  the 
ear.  Nor  was  there  absent  the  steady  cracking  of  the 
guns.  Gokey's  regular  double  report,  mingled  with 
the  cornsheller  activity  of  Bowsers'  repeating  Winches- 
ter, smote  my  ear  on  the  right,  while  nearby  on  the 
left  the  sharp  crack  of  the  Chief's  little  12-gauge 
sounded  incessantly.  Not  one  shot  out  of  four  landed 
its  game,  but,  none  the  less,  there  was  a  series  of  heavy 
thumps  all  about  us,  more  especially  to  the  right  of  the 
firing-  line,  where  the  two  Dakota  men  were  in  action. 

After  a  while  we  had  a  little  let  up  and  I  looked  over 


324  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

to  see  how  the  Chief  was  getting  along.  I  then  had 
about  a  dozen  ducks  piled  up  in  my  pit,  most  of  them 
belonging  to  Bowers,  I  presume,  but  when  I  approached 
the  Chief  he  was  sitting  with  his  head  in  his  hand, 
gloomily  looking  down  at  a  hen  spoonbill  which  he  had 
chased  into  the  grass  and  killed  with  a  stick. 

''What's  the  matter,  Chief?"  I  asked  him,  kindly  and 
like  a  perfect  gentleman. 

"The  truth  is,"  said  he  sadly,  as  he  looked  up  from 
the  hen  spoonbill,  "I  can't  land  on  'em.  Now,  I've 
been  holding  for  the  solar  plexus  of  about  4,000  indi- 
vidual ducks  that  have  sashayed  across  here,  but  I  can't 
seem  to  land  on  'em.  When  I  lead  they — don't  misun- 
derstand me — they  duck,  as  it  were.  They  ain't  there. 
How  about  that  ?  Are  these  things  too  good  for  every- 
body ?  How  did  you  fellows  happen  to  get  any  ?  Did 
you  shoot  into  the  flock  and  hit  another  flock  ?" 

I  explained  to  the  Chief  that  I  got  ducks  by  watching 
closely  where  Mr.  Bowers  was  shooting  and  then  shoot- 
ing into  the  same  flock  with  him.  He  regretted  that  he 
was  so  far  out  of  the  way  of  this  sort  of  assistance  that 
he  could  not  avail  himself  of  anybody's  skill  but  his 
own,  and  he  hadn't  any^ 

The  Chief  and  I  then  concluded  to  visit  a  while,  and 
we  shot  together  out  of  his  pit  for  a  few  rounds.  By 
this  time  the  birds  had  begun  to  come  back  from  the 
east,  and  now  the  fun  grew  yet  more  fast  and  furious. 
The  flocks  would  start  from  the  eastern  lake  high  up  in 
the  air.  "Mark  east !"  would  come  the  warning  down 
the  line,  and  each  man  would  get  below  the  level  of  the 


PASS   SHOOTING.  325 

ridge.  As  the  birds  approached  the  high  ground  they 
would  drop  rapidly  and  come  over  the  pass  parallel  with 
the  ground  and  very  low.  They  would  roll  over  the 
top  of  the  little  ridge  beyond  us,  dip  down  into  the  cou- 
lee across  our  front,  disappear  for  a  moment,  and  then 
come  surging  and  boiling  and  whistling  up  in  a  long, 
swift,  leathery  wave  over  the  crest  of  our  breastworks, 
hissing  almost  into  our  faces  as  they  swept  on  out  to- 
ward the  water.  Never  was  such  an  exciting  situation 
in  the  world  1 

Never  in  all  my  life  did  I  see  such  shooting„  It  was 
a  glimpse,  a  glance  and  then  a  swift  wheel  to  get  a  fair 
shot  at  a  disappearing  bunch  almost  over  the  edge  of 
the  reeds  which  lined  the  water's  edge  behind  us. 
Sometimes  the  ducks  flew  almost  into  our  faces.  Often 
we  dodged  down  to  escape  what  seemed  an  imminent 
danger  of  losing  a  hat  or  a  head.  Twice  I  shot  ducks 
ahead  of  me  which  fell  thirty  feet  behind  me.  Once  I 
had  a  fat  duck  come  crushing  into  the  pit  beside  me, 
and  once  I  dropped  a  teal  against  the  bank  of  my  pit.  A 
more  perfect  embodiment  of  a  hot  corner  on  ducks 
never  existed.  It  was  almost  bewildering  in  its  ten- 
sion.    It  was  a  delirium  of  ducks. 

The  Chief  and  I  shot  trom  his  pit  together,  and  after 
a  time  we  both  began  to  improve,  coaching  each  other 
on  the  lead  as  the  different  flocks  came  by.  I  could  see 
that  he  was  stopping  his  gun  when  he  fired  and  holding 
about  six  feet  ahead  on  birds  where  he  should  have  led 
twenty.  I  could  see  the  line  of  his  smoke  cut  in  appar- 
ently a  dozen  feet  behind  the  bird  which  he  thought  he 


326  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

was  leading  almost  too  much.  He  did  an  equal  service 
by  me,  and  soon  we  began  to  acquire  the  lead,  a  distance 
which  seemed  utterly  absurd  at  first.  The  pile  of  birds 
at  our  pit  began  to  grow.  At  lunch  time  the  Chief  had 
become  a  finished  performer  on  the  pass.  A  very  nice- 
looking  farmer  lady  came  out  with  a  very  nice-looking 
lunch,  and  as  she  drove  up,  the  Chief  and  I  rose  and  cut 
out  four  ducks  from  a  passmg  flock,  just  to  show  the 
lady  how  it  was  done.  Alas  for  me !  I  fell  down  on 
my  next  chance,  but  the  Chief  killed  a  pair  out  the  next 
flight  over.  Then,  as  we  gathered  at  the  reed  bed  for 
luncheon,  he  cut  down  a  high  single,  and  a  moment 
later  yet  another.  I  saw  a  glance  of  triumph  come  into 
his  eye.     He  had  caught  the  knack  of  it. 

At  lunch  we  paused  now  and  then  to  kill,  or  try  to 
kill,  the  ducks  which  continued  to  pour  over.  Mr. 
Bowers  told  me  that  he  and  some  friends  once  killed 
fourteen  ducks  at  that  same  spot  while  they  were  eating 
lunch  one  day.  I  think  we  dropped  half  a  dozen  or  so 
before  we  had  cleaned  up  the  lunch.  A  bountiful  and 
well-cooked  one  it  was,  and  to  have  it  thus  brought 
down  warm  from  the  farmhouse  was  the  last  touch  of 
comfort  on  this  dry,  comfortable  and  absolutely  ideal 
fly-way.  A  good  part  of  our  lunch  was  made  up  of 
four  grouse,  which  we  had  picked  up  along  the  road; 
almost  the  only  grouse  we  saw  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try, where  they  are  very  scarce  this  year. 

After  our  lunch  we  resumed  position  in  the  skirmish 
line,  minus  Gokey,  who  had  a  headache  and  did  not 
shoot  for  a  while.     It  was  an  old  story  with  Gokey,  and 


PASS   SHOOTING.  327 

it  did  not  take  him  long  to  kill  the  twenty-five  birds 
which  make  the  limit  per  diem  for  a  shooter  in  the  State 
of  North  Dakota.  With  the  Chief  and  myself  it  was 
different.  We  got  a  good  deal  bigger  run  for  our 
money  than  anybody  else,  because  we  shot  worse.  It 
now  began  to  be  a  struggle  of  courtesy  between  us  all. 
*'I  never  touched  that  bird;  it's  yours,  my  friend/'  I 
would  say  to  the  Chief.  "Your  bird,  sir,"  he  would 
reply,  with  equal  courtesy;  and  so  we  would  argue 
over  it. 

Bowers  and  I  nearly  scared  the  Chief  to  death  by 
covertly  piling  up  a  lot  of  our  birds  in  front  of  his  pit 
and  then  proceeding  to  count  them  before  him.  We 
made  it  out  to  be  twenty-nine  birds,  and  the  warden 
told  him  it  would  cost  him  $400 ! 

It  would  seem  that  one  should  soon  kill  his  limit  on  a 
flight  like  this,  and  so  he  can,  even  though  he  be  new  at 
the  sport  of  pass  shooting — the  hardest  shooting  in  the 
world,  and  not  to  be  compared  with  the  easy  work  of 
shooting  over  decoys.  Yet  I  have  noticed  that  even  the 
best  shots  will  spoil  100  shells  to  pick  up  twenty-five 
ducks  on  a  pass  like  this,  and  it  takes  a  little  while  to 
shoot  100  shells,  especially  after  the  first  flurry  is  over 
and  one  steadies  down  and  behaves  like  a  shooter,  pick- 
ing his  shots  and  taking  care.  We  had  shot  a  little 
over  a  couple  of  hours  before  we  thought  it  best  to 
rectify  our  rough  counts  of  individual  bags  and  to  go 
after  the  birds  which  had  fallen  dead  back  of  us  in  the 
reeds.  Bowers  and  I  went  over  the  crest  of  the  ridge 
to   look   for  some  birds  we  had  killed  on  the  hard 


^28  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ground,  and  while  we  were  there  we  saw  the  prettiest 
bit  of  shooting  done  on  the  trip. 

The  Chief  was  then  alone  in  the  pit  over  which  the 
main  flight  was  passing,  and  he  had  his  eye  on  the  birds. 
He  took  toll  out  of  everything  that  crossed.  Five 
times  w^e  saw  him  rise  and  fire  at  flocks  and  small  bodies 
of  birds,  and  each  time  he  got  meat.  Once  he  killed  all 
three  of  three  ducks  that  went  over  down  wind,  high 
and  fast,  a  handsome  bit  of  work.  Twice  he  dropped 
his  double  out,  and  out  of  five  accepted  chances  he  did 
not  miss  a  shot.  It  was  good  enough  fun  to  sit  and 
watch  this,  and  Bowers  and  I  both  concluded  we  had  no 
more  advice  to  offer  him.  When  w^e  got  to  his  pit  we 
found  him  radiant  and  hugging  to  his  bosom  the  light 
i2-gauge,  with  which  he  was  now  thoroughly  in- 
fatuated. He  expressed  himself  as  for  once  absolutely 
satisfied  with  the  world.  ''Did  you  see  me  deflate  that 
last  un  ?"  he  asked  cheerfully. 

When  we  picked  up  our  birds  we  found  that,  count- 
ing a  half  dozen  birds  we  had  given  the  farmer's  wife, 
we  had  our  limit,  or  so  near  it  that  we  did  not  care  to  go 
closer — ninety-eight  birds  in  all.  Thereupon  came  up 
human  nature,  as  the  Chief  and  I  both  realized.  It  was 
the  first  day  we  had  had  outdoors  with  a  gun  for  a  long 
time,  and  the  best  chance  to  kill  a  lot  of  ducks  either  of 
us  had  ever  had  in  all  his  life.  I  confess  that  my  per- 
sonal wish  was  to  kill  some  more.  I  wanted  to  try  just 
one  or  two  shots  more.  I  wanted  to  see  if  I  could  kill  a 
double  out  of  the  flock  just  heading  for  us.  I  wanted 
— well,  I  admit  I  wanted  to  go  ahead  and  shoot  a  lot. 


PASS   SHOOTING.  329 

But  this  we  did  not  do,  and  after  we  saw  the  awful  pile 
of  game  we  had  when  we  got  it  together,  every  one  of 
us  was  mighty  glad  we  had  killed  no  more,  even  the 
question  of  the  law  aside.  All  of  these  birds,  except 
those  eaten  by  ourselves,  were  taken  to  Fargo  and  there 
disposed  of,  Mr.  Bowers  and  myself  laboring  faithfully 
till  we  had  them  all  given  away.  It  is  sure  we  killed 
enough.  How  many  we  could  have  killed  had  we  all 
shot  all  day  long  as  steadily  as  possible  I  should  not  like 
to  say.  I  believe  we  could  easily  have  fired  from  500  to 
600  shells  apiece  and  have  killed  perhaps  one-fourth  or 
more  of  that  number  of  birds  apiece.  But  what  a 
butchery  that  would  have  been,  for  even  our  one  party. 
What  a  butchery  it  would  be  for  many  parties,  taken 
for  not  one  day,  but  for  many  days.  I  never  had  the 
lesson  of  moderation  more  forcibly  impressed  upon  me. 
It  was  not  at  first  pleasant,  I  admit,  and  I  vaguely 
found  the  customary  excuses  for  doing  what  I  wanted 
to  do,  just  as  human  nature  always  finds  such  excuses ; 
but  once  the  temptation  was  overcome  we  each  of  us 
felt  happy.  We  are  each  ready  to  say  that  the  killing 
of  twenty-five  ducks  on  a  red-hot  pass  is  fun  enough  for 
one  day  for  any  man,  and  that  the  law  is  a  good  one 
and  should  stand  and  be  respected.  This  limit  is  one 
which  should  be  set  in  every  gentlemen's  shooting  club 
all  over  the  land.  It  is  enough.  It  is  at  the  moment 
hard  to  realize  it,  but  it  is  enough.  Stop  at  twenty- 
five,  and  you  feel  bad  at  the  time,  but  good  after  a 
while. 

So  we  went  away  long  before  evening,  while  a  cold 


330  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Storm  was  blowing  up,  and  while  over  the  greatest  duck 
pass  of  the  Northwest  the  long  black  streamers  of  the 
flight  were  growing  thick  and  thicker.  Into  the  night, 
over  roads  made  softer  by  a  drizzling  rain,  we  drove, 
reaching  town  late,  but  very  well  contented. 

Precisely  similar  to  pass  shooting  is  that  mode  which 
is  sometimes  practiced  in  the  East  and  called  bar 
shooting. 

Less  than  lOO  miles  from  New  York,  in  the  harbor 
of  a  New  England  town,  is  a  little  island  which  at  low 
water  is  connected  with  the  mainland  by  a  long  bar. 
On  either  side  of  this  bar  are  feeding  grounds  for  the 
ducks,  and  in  autumn,  winter  and  spring  the  birds  at 
morning  and  evening  fly  between  the  two  feeding 
grounds  and  so  between  the  island  and  the  mainland. 
When  the  tide  is  low,  in  the  morning  or  at  evening,  the 
gunners  often  gather  on  this  bar,  and,  stationing  them- 
selves a  gunshot  or  more  apart,  wait  for  the  ducks  to 
fly.  The  birds  are  chiefly  scoters  of  two  or  three  kinds, 
old  squaws,  a  few  broadbills  in  spring  and  always  a  few 
whistlers  and  buflle-heads.  Sometimes,  if  the  weather 
is  entirely  calm,  no  birds  at  all  will  fly  across  the  bar ; 
at  other  times,  if  it  is  stormy  or  foggy,  there  may  be 
quite  a  flight — half  a  dozen  flocks  of  old  squaws,  as 
many  of  coots,  one  or  two  small  flocks  of  broadbills  and 
scattering  whistlers  and  dippers,  with  rarely  a  black 
duck.  Sometimes  the  coots,  if  the  breeze  is  gentle,  will 
fly  across  at  considerable  height,  too  far  off  to  be 
reached  by  shot,  and  then  occasionally  they  may  be 


PASS   SHOOTING.  331 

brought  down  within  gunshot  by  the  shrill  yell  of  one 
of  the  gunners  or  even  by  a  shot  fired  at  them.  It  is 
curious  to  see  a  dozen  of  these  great  birds  turn  almost 
completely  over  at  the  unexpected  sound  and  dash  down 
toward  the  water. 

The  gunners  in  this  shooting  do  not  make  use  of  any 
blind,  but  crouch  low  on  the  stones  of  the  bar,  keeping 
motionless  and  out  of  sight  until  the  birds  are  nearly 
over  them.  In  such  shooting  I  once  saw  a  man  cut 
down  two  eider  ducks  out  of  a  flock  of  coots  passing 
over  him. 

Similar  to  this  is  the  shooting  which  is  practiced  in 
New  England  on  the  hills  which  separate  the  wide, 
open  waters  from  some  more  sheltered  bay  or  lake  to 
which  the  birds  may  wish  to  resort.  In  quiet  weather 
when  the  birds  do  not  come  in  until  a  long  time  after 
dark,  this  shooting  is  practiced  only  at  night.  But  on 
stormy  days  the  flight  of  ducks  and  geese  often  begins 
two  or  three  hours  before  dark,  and  black  ducks,  pin- 
tails and  geese  may  fly  from  that  time  until  darkness 
has  shut  down,  and  some  may  be  killed.  If  the  wind 
is  from  a  quarter  where  the  birds  are  obliged  to  face  it 
they  often  fly  very  low  and  the  shooting  is  then  ex- 
tremely easy,  if  their  course  brings  them  within  range 
of  the  gunner. 

If  they  are  shot  at  night  it  must  be  a  cloudy  night 
with  a  moon.  On  a  bright  moonlight  night  the  birds 
cannot  be  seen  unless  they  pass  very  near  to  the  gunner, 
and  even  then  he  is  likely  to  have  only  a  glimpse  of 


332  DUCK   SHOOTING, 

them,  while  if  a  bright  moon  is  shining  behind  clouds 
the  diffused  light  renders  the  whole  sky  so  light  that 
duck  or  goose  can  be  seen  quite  a  long  way  off  and  the 
gunner  has  little  difficulty  in  knowing  just  when  and 
where  to  shoot. 

Twenty  years  ago  this  method  of  shooting  was  prac- 
ticed to  a  considerable  extent  in  New  England  and  with 
not  a  little  success.  It  was  not  very  uncommon  for  a 
good  shot  to  kill  in  an  evening  two  or  three  geese  and 
perhaps  five  or  six  ducks.  We  imagine  that  of  late 
years  much  less  of  it  has  been  done,  particularly  as  in 
many  States  all  night  shooting  is  forbidden. 

At  certain  points  on  the  South  Atlantic  coast,  notably 
at  Carroll's  Island,  in  the  old  time,  overhead  shooting, 
as  it  is  called  there,  has  been  practiced  for  many  years. 
This  came  in  after  the  fowl,  through  much  pursuit,  had 
become  wild  and  no  longer  came  to  decoys  at  the  points. 
At  first  these  overhead  birds  used  to  fly  within  range, 
but  as  they  were  shot  at  more  and  more  they  took  to 
flying  higher.  Where  at  first  ordinary  lo-gauge  guns 
were  used,  12-pound  8's  presently  became  necessary. 
Later,  heavy  8-gauge  guns,  weighing  from  16  to  19 
pounds,  were  used,  and  finally  single-barrel  4-gauge 
guns,  weighing  from  19  to  22  pounds  and  shooting  BB 
or  even  larger  shot,  were  fired  at  these  flocks,  which 
looked  almost  like  bumble  bees  as  they  passed  over  the 
land.  Often  the  sport  was  good,  and  we  know  of  a 
man  who  killed  in  three  days  117  canvas-backs  and  red- 
heads from  these  overhead  flocks. 


IN    THE   OVERFLOW,  333 


SHOOTING  IN  THE  OVERFLOW. 

Wildfowl  shooting  in  the  timber  is  practiced  in 
many  parts  of  the  South  at  seasons  when  the  rivers 
overflow  their  banks  and  spread  over  the  low  wooded 
country  through  which  they  pass.  Sometimes  the 
shooting  is  done  in  the  pleasant  autumn  months,  when 
the  October  haze  covers  woods  and  fields  with  its  light 
veil,  or,  again,  it  may  be  followed  in  early  spring,  when 
the  winds  howl  noisily  among  the  tree  tops  amid  rain 
and  snow  flurries.  Suitable  conditions  for  timber 
shooting  do  not  always  prevail,  for  very  often  neither 
spring  nor  fall  overflow  takes  place.  When,  however, 
the  Mississippi  River  does  break  out  of  banks  in  the 
autumn  and  covers  much  of  the  low  country,  making 
more  accessible  the  acorns  and  the  roots  and  the  shoots 
that  the  birds  like  so  well,  great  sport  may  be  had  in  the 
overflowed  lands,  to  which  all  the  fresh-water  ducks 
resort,  though  the  most  of  them  are  mallards. 

When  such  conditions  prevail,  if  the  gunner  can 
choose  a  stormy,  windy  day,  when  the  birds  find  it  un- 
comfortable to  sit  out  in  the  broad,  open  waters,  and 
can  find  a  place  in  the  timber  where  the  ducks  are  feed- 
ing, he  is  likely  to  have  great  shooting.  Of  course,  he 
must  go  thither  in  a  boat,  and  usually  two  men  go 
together — one  to  paddle  and  the  other  to  shoot. 

On  the  way  through  the  timber  many  shots  will  be 
had  at  birds  sprung  from  the  water  by  the  approach  of 
the  boat,  but  when  the  spot  is  reached  where  the  ducks 


334  DUCK   SHOOTING, 

have  been  feeding,  a  dozen  or  twenty  decoys  will  be 
thrown  out,  and  a  blind  built  for  the  boat.  Often  this 
consists  merely  of  a  few  branches  stuck  in  the  mud  by 
the  vessel's  side,  or  it  may  be  practicable  to  push  it  into 
tall  grass  or  reeds,  which  will  form  a  natural  blind. 
Whatever  spot  is  chosen,  the  gunner  must  have 
plenty  of  elbow  room  for  himself  and  his  companion, 
for  there  is  no  greater  handicap  in  shooting  than  being 
cramped. 

Usually  the  birds  that  have  been  feeding  in  this  place, 
and  which  have  been  driven  away  by  the  boat's  ap- 
proach, will  very  soon  begin  to  come  back,  and  will 
come  in  very  gently  to  the  decoys,  offering  extremely 
pretty  and  easy  shooting.  Besides  this,  on  a  day  such 
as  described,  small  bunches  of  birds  are  continually 
flying  about  over  the  timber,  looking  for  places  where 
the  feed  is  good,  and  seeing  the  imitation  ducks  float- 
ing on  the  water,  at  once  lower  their  flight  to  secure 
their  share  of  the  good  things  their  companions  are 
feeding  on. 

Often,  if  they  are  permitted  to  do  so,  the  ducks  will 
alight  among  the  decoys,  and  sometimes  those  that  are 
particularly  gentle  will  even  begin  to  feed  with  them; 
but  the  lack  of  motion  in  the  wooden  stools  soon  ren- 
ders them  suspicious,  and  they  spring  into  the  air  with 
a  sharp  quack,  only  to  be  cut  down  before  they  fairly 
get  on  the  wing. 

If  by  chance,  while  good  shooting  is  being  had  on 
such  a  day,  the  wind  should  suddenly  die  down,  it  will 
be  found  that  the  shooting  ceases  almost  at  once,  for 


RIVER    SHOOTING.  335 

the  birds  then  cease  to  fly  and  resort  to  the  open  water 
and  sit  there  until  dark. 


RIVER  SHOOTING. 

River  shooting  is  practiced  with  great  effect  in  many- 
parts  of  the  country  where  narrow  streams,  flowing 
through  deep  beds,  permit  the  gunner  to  walk  along 
their  winding  course,  and  to  shoot  the  ducks  as  they 
rise  before  him.  In  the  same  way,  in  the  South,  and 
indeed  in  many  portions  of  the  country,  from  the 
Southern  States  to  California,  river  shooting  is  prac- 
ticed by  paddling  along  narrow  streams,  keeping  close 
to  the  banks,  and  shooting  the  ducks  as  they  get  up. 
In  this  last  form  of  the  sport  two  men  are  usually  re- 
quired, one  man  sitting  in  the  bow  with  his  gun,  the 
other  handling  the  paddle  in  the  stern.  Usually  the 
gunners  take  turns,  one  paddling  for  an  hour,  and  then 
being  relieved  by  his  companion,  and  shooting  for  an 
hour.  In  the  narrow  sloughs  of  Ohio,  Illinois,  Indiana 
and  Mmnesota  the  same  sport  is  practiced.  During  the 
migration,  these  sloughs,  which  are  often  bordered  by 
wild  rice,  or,  at  all  events,  produce  abundant  vegetable 
food,  are  resorted  to  by  the  ducks,  and  often  the 
stream's  course  is  so  tortuous  that  the  birds  rise  not 
more  than  twenty  or  thirty  yards  before  the  boat. 
Shooting  of  this  description  is  usually  easy,  since  the 
birds  spring  into  the  air  and  give  the  gunner  a  straight- 


336  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

away  or  climbing  shot.  On  the  other  hand,  many 
crippled  birds  are  Ukely  to  be  lost,  as  they  fall  on  the 
land  or  in  the  thick  grass  or  weeds  of  the  bank.  For 
this  reason  a  well-trained  dog — a  setter,  pointer,  or 
water-dog — is  of  great  assistance,  since  he  is  sure  to 
find  many  birds  that  would  otherwise  be  lost. 

This  is  a  favorite  method  of  shooting  in  many  parts 
of  the  South,  and  men  who  practice  it  are  enthusiastic 
about  it.  Such  an  one  is  the  writer  of  an  account  of 
"Duck  Floating  on  the  Tombigbee  River,"  in  Southern 
Alabama,  printed  in  Forest  and  Stream  over  the  signa- 
ture P.  B.  M.,  which  reads  as  follows : 

I  closely  scanned  the  river  below  me  as  it  lay  glisten- 
ing in  the  morning's  sunlight.  With  my  spyglass  I 
looked  under  the  overhanging  willows  and  into  the  lit- 
tle nooks  and  corners  along  the  shore.  Very  soon  a 
fine  flock  of  mallards  emerged  from  under  the  willow 
that  had  hidden  them  from  our  view.  One  by  one  they 
came  out  and  gazed  without  any  signs  of  fright  at  the 
green  floating  mass  that  our  boat  appeared  to  be.  As 
soon  as  the  plumage  of  these  birds  was  plain  and  the 
bright  emerald  green  of  the  drakes'  heads  was  distinct 
(for  by  this  time  the  current  had  silently  carried  us  near 
to  them)  I,  with  one  barrel  on  the  water  and  the  other 
on  the  wing,  killed  seven  of  these  fine  fowls  and  re- 
ceived most  gracefully  the  compliments  of  Kirk  upon 
my  skill.  All  sportsmen  know  how  animating  a  good 
beginning  is  in  a  day's  sport  and  how  the  expectation  of 
killing  more  game  lends  a  keener  zest  to  the  pursuit. 


RIVER    SHOOTING.  337 

So  it  was  with  us  as  the  gentle  Bigby  bore  us  down  its 
current  to  as  glorious  a  day's  shooting  as  ever  fell  to 
mortal  lot.  More  mallards  swam  out  from  under  wil- 
lows and  so  many  were  killed  that  the  bottom  of  our 
boat  was  covered,  and  I  was  covered,  too,  with  Kirk's 
compliments.  I  made  quick  double  shots  right  and  left 
and  capped  the  climax  of  Kirk's  good  opinion  by  call- 
ing his  attention  to  two  ducks  thirty  feet  apart,  promis- 
ing to  kill  both  at  one  shot  on  the  wing,  which  I  did  in 
spite  of  his  assertion  that  ''it  can't  be  did." 

Below  Camber's,  where  the  river  was  eddy,  the  sharp 
brown  nose  of  a  beaver  was  thrust  up  above  the  water's 
surface,  and  his  curiosity  was  rewarded  by  a  load  of 
BB  shot.  The  beaver  sank  out  of  sight,  leaving  the 
water  red  with  blood.  My  guide  told  me  he  would 
soon  rise,  but  not  to  fire  until  he  told  me.  In  a  few  sec- 
onds the  animal  slowly  rose  to  the  surface  and  swam  to 
the  shore.  As  he  crawled  up  on  the  bank  I  obeyed  my 
companion's  order  "to  fire,"  and  killed  the  beaver.  Be-, 
fore  the  smoke  of  my  gun  had  cleared  away,  a  quick 
stroke  of  the  paddle  carried  the  skiff  to  land,  when, 
leaping  out,  Kirk  seized  the  beaver,  preventing  his  roll- 
ing into  the  water,  and  threw  him  into  our  boat. 

Of  all  modes  of  locomotion  that  of  gliding  down  the 
smooth  current  of  a  river  in  an  open  boat  is  the  most 
delightful ;  it  soothes  the  senses  and  quiets  the  nerves 
in  a  way  indescribable.  Softly  floating  down  the  cur- 
rent of  that  river  so  rich  in  Indian  lore,  with  a  sky  over- 
head like  Italy's,  I  thought  of  the  dusky  old  chiefs, 
Tombecbee  and  Tishabee,  whose  names  "are  on  our 


338  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

waters  still,"  whose  hunter's  shout  made  these  grand 
old  woods  ring.  These  red  men,  like  me,  once  drank 
in  the  beauty  of  this  scene,  where  the  mock  orange  trees 
bloomed  and  the  golden  w^ater-grass  filled  the  river  s 
edge,  while  visions  of  the  happy  hunting  grounds  came 
to  them. 

We  reached  Houston's  Island,  where  hundreds  of 
ducks  were  feeding,  a  sight  to  gladden  any  sportsman's 
heart,  as  their  bright  plumage  glistened  in  the  sun. 
Here  Kirk,  by  skillful  paddling,  brought  me  into  close 
range,  and  more  victims  fell  to  our  guns.  Here  on  this 
island,  my  guide  tells  me,  is  where  Sam  Rowe,  the  bar- 
keeper, with  his  little  Winchester,  killed  his  big  buck 
from  the  deck  of  the  boat,  whose  horns  ornament  the 
boat,  and  upon  which  horns  Sam  ''hangs  many  a  tale" 
for  the  amusement  of  the  passengers. 

We  drifted  along  under  the  high,  white  cliffs  of  Bluff 
Port,  and  just  below  Kirk  discovered,  standing  on  the 
heights,  a  flock  of  turkeys.  We  allowed  our  boat  to 
float  directly  under  them,  so  as  to  be  concealed.  Then 
my  companion  went  ashore,  took  off  his  shoes  and  tied 
his  rifle  to  his  back  with  his  suspenders,  and  ascended 
the  cliff  in  a  zigzag  fashion.  Almost  as  soon  as  he 
reached  the  top  the  sharp  crack  of  the  rifle  told  the 
doom  of  a  big  gobbler  that  was  thrown  down  to  me. 
Kirk's  gobbler  took  away  all  appetite  for  killing  mal- 
lards, but  not  for  lunch,  so  we  kindled  a  fire  and  fell 
upon  our  eatables  with  a  hearty  zest,  while  I  was  enter- 
tained with  huntinjE"  stories.  We  got  adrift  again  and 
floated  lazily  on,  not  cTw'm'y  much  for  the  ducks  that  we 


RIVER    SHOOTING.  339 

would  sometimes  drift  upon  so  noiselessly  that  we 
would  catch  them  asleep  upon  logs,  with  their  heads 
tucked  under  their  wings.  Our  boat  was  nearly  full, 
and  often  we  did  not  disturb  the  slumbers  of  the  solitary 
old  drake  as  he  enjoyed  his  siesta  on  a  log. 

As  we  pass  Spring  Bluff  we  hear  the  mellow  notes  of 
Steve  Brown's  horn  vainly  endeavoring  to  call  back  his 
dogs  from  the  pursuit  of  a  deer.  The  deer's  crossing 
place  on  the  river  was  only  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below, 
and  Kirk  took  his  place  quickly  in  the  middle  of  the 
boat,  seized  his  oars  and  pulled  hard  and  fast  that  we 
might  intercept  him.  We  were  just  in  tiane  to  see  a 
big  buck  take  to  water,  and  a  few  pulls  on  the  oars 
brought  us  in  range  of  him.  Kirk  threw  up  his  rifle, 
took  steady  aim  and  fired,  but  only  wounded  him.  We 
could  travel  faster  than  the  deer  in  water,  and  the  skiff 
was  soon  alongside  of  the  deer,  and  Kirk  took  him  by 
the  horns.  A  deer  sinks  like  lead  when  shot  dead  in 
water,  and  we  had  to  manoeuvre  well  to  get  him  to  the 
shore.  Kirk  proposed  to  mount  and  ride  him  ashore,  as 
we  were  towed  along,  but  to  this  I  objected,  thinking  it 
best  to  gain  a  little  time  for  Brown's  dogs  to  come. 
The  dogs  soon  arrived,  and  seeing  the  situation  of 
things  swam  out  to  our  assistance.  With  their  aid  the 
deer  was  killed,  landed,  disemboweled  and  was  soon 
lying  with  our  game  in  the  boat. 

We  were  soon  adrift  again,  and  long  shadows  on  the 
Bigby's  bosom  told  us  that  the  day  was  closing.  Away 
below  we  heard  the  welcome  sound  of  the  "Clara's" 
double  whistle.     As  the  current  carries  us  down,  our 


340  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

game  is  counted :  Thirty-seven  mallards,  six  teals  and 
one  deer  and  turkey  are  our  trophies.  Two  great  black 
columns  of  smoke  are  now  just  below,  and  the  steamer 
sweeps  around  the  bend  in  full  view.  The  broad, 
good-humored  face  of  Captain  Ham  greets  us  from  the 
roof  as  he  calls  out,  "What  do  you  want  ?"  In  reply  I 
seized  a  dead  mallard  by  the  legs  and  waved  it  in  the 
air.  The  alarm  whistle  was  blown  and  the  engine 
slowed,  and  as  we  ride  the  waves  alongside,  our  friends, 
the  officers,  welcome  us  with  hearty  greeting.  Old 
Captain  Bennett,  the  mate,  seized  our  rope  as  we  threw 
it  aboard ;  then  I  was  jerked  on  the  steamer  by  the  arm 
and  our  boat  hauled  up.  We  return  the  Captain's  com- 
pliments on  our  skill  by  presenting  him  with  the  turkey, 
while  good  old  Sam  Rowe  must  needs  treat  us  all 
around,  except  the  Captain. 

In  spring,  when  the  snows  are  melting  and  the 
weather  is  wet,  the  narrow  streams  from  which  one 
may  expect  to  jump  ducks  are  likely  to  be  bank  full, 
and  when  this  is  the  case  the  man  who  is  walking  along 
them  for  ducks  must  often  use  considerable  care  and 
skill  to  approach  within  shot  without  being  seen.  This 
is  often  very  difficult  and  requires  much  creeping 
through  mud  and  water,  and  even  then  may  fail. 

In  California,  and  on  some  western  rivers,  a  modifi- 
cation of  ''floating"  takes  place.  The  gunner,  without 
a  companion,  occupies  a  low,  flat  boat,  which  rises  but 
little  above  the  water;  sometimes  the  flat  deck  of  this 
boat  is  fitted  up  with  hooks  or  loops  by  means  of  which 


RIVER    SHOOTING.  341 

weeds,  grass  or  branches  of  trees  are  fastened  to  it,  so 
that  when  seen  from  the  level  of  the  water  the  boat 
looks  merely  like  a  mass  of  drift  stuff  coming  down  the 
stream.  The  gunner,  when  he  reaches  the  point  where 
he  intends  to  begin  to  shoot,  ships  his  oars,  and  passing 
a  sculling  oar  through  the  hole  in  the  stern  of  the  boat, 
lies  on  his  back  and  slowly  sculls  the  vessel  with  the 
current.  His  eyes  are  just  above  the  mass  of  the  trash 
on  the  deck,  and  he  is  able  to  scan  the  surface  of  the 
stream  before  him.  If  he  sees  ducks  he  directs  the  boat 
toward  them  and  slowly  approaches  to  within  shot.  If 
he  is  careful,  the  birds  are  not  likely  to  take  the  alarm 
until  he  has  come  as  near  to  them  as  he  wishes  to. 
When  he  rises,  the  birds  take  wing,  and  he  fires. 

Floating  for  ducks  is  likely  to  be  practiced  at  any 
time  in  spring  or  fall,  but  it  is  quite  obvious  that  it  is 
likely  to  be  more  successful  in  the  early  winter,  after  the 
quiet  ponds  and  slow-flowing  sloughs  are  frozen,  than 
when  all  the  water  is  open.  If,  for  example,  the 
weather  in  the  Northern  States  should  have  been  cold 
for  a  few  days,  late  in  November,  so  as  to  close  much 
of  the  feeding  ground,  and  there  is  a  swift-flowing 
stream  that  has  not  yet  been  frozen,  good  shooting  is 
usually  to  be  found  there.  It  will  be  had,  however, 
only  at  the  expense  of  considerable  suffering  from  cold, 
but  it  is  sure  to  be  good.  An  account  of  such  a  day's 
shoot,  written  by  Mr.  E.  Hough  for  Forest  and  Stream, 
is  worth  quoting : 

It  was  very  cold ;  our  boat  was  calked  by  the  fingers 


342  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

of  the  frost  and  could  not  leak  a  drop.  We  shivered 
under  our  heavy  coats.  Far  and  wide  the  bottoms 
were  a  sheet  of  ice,  for  winter  had  caught  old  Skunk 
"out  on  a  high,"  though  the  water  was  now  within  the 
banks,  ice  being  on  either  shore,  and  the  meagre  current 
in  the  middle  looked  blue-black  and  forbidding  in  the 
morning  light.  A  cold  wind  whistled  through  the 
trees,  and  the  whole  scene  was  so  dismal  that  it  was 
with  feelings  almost  of  foreboding  that  we  stepped 
aboard  and  shoved  off,  heading  eastward,  where  a  faint 
gray  streak  told  of  the  coming  day.  Fifteen  minutes 
passed  in  silence  as  we  sped  on  down  the  racing  current. 
Then  a  sharp  whizz  greeted  our  ears  as  a  solitary  spike- 
tail  crossed  from  the  right.  We  dropped  two  empty 
shells  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  and  the  duck  wxnt  right 
on;  a  double  miss  to  begin  on.  Now  an  old  mallard 
starts  from  under  the  willows  and  he  comes  down  dead 
all  over.  Two  more  follow  and  meet  a  like  fate.  Then 
they  start  up  by  the  hundred,  from  under  the  ice, 
among  the  willows,  from  the  dry  ground.  "Shoot! 
shoot !"  my  companion  cries,  and  as  fast  as  I  can  work 
the  top-snap  I  comply.  Half  our  ducks  fell  on  shore, 
and  before  we  could  break  through  the  ledge  of  ice 
many  of  the  cripples  were  lost  beyond  recovery,  some- 
times creeping  off  a  hundred  feet  beneath  a  sheet  of  ice, 
where  a  man  could  not  follow  them. 

We  now  exchanged  places,  and  Virgil  took  the  bow 
with  both  guns,  it  being  our  agreement  that  but  one 
should  shoot  at  a  time,  we  not  caring  to  add  another  to 
the  list  of  accidents  from  careless  shooting  in  boats. 


RIVER    SHOOTING.  343 

As  we  rounded  a  bend  I  noticed  my  friend  trying  to 
catch  a  sight  on  a  big  mallard  which  was  swimming- 
ahead  of  him.     ''Trying  to  shoot  on  the  water,  are  you, 

hey?"  said  I;  "see  here "     "No,  I  am  not.     He's 

dived  twice.  Hold  on !  Whoa !  Back  v/ater !  Con- 
found him ;  there  he  goes  again  !"  And  that  duck  was 
never  seen  again.  After  several  such  experiences  we 
concluded  to  shoot  on  sight.  With  few  exceptions  the 
single  ducks  would  dive  instead  of  flying.  It  was  most 
provoking  to  get  within  thirty  yards  of  a  fine  duck  and 
then,  just  as  you  expect  to  see  him  start  up  to  meet  an 
honorable  death,  see  him  settle  down  in  the  most  ap- 
proved hell-diver  style,  till  his  eye  just  showed  above 
water  line,  and  then  dive  to  shot.  These  "slinkers," 
as  we  called  them,  were  all  mallards,  though  I  have 
seen  redheads  do  the  same  thing.  They  were  nearly 
all  uninjured,  so  far  as  we  could  see.  Sometimes  we 
could  see  two  or  three  skulking  along  the  edge  of  the 
river  with  their  heads  down,  trying  to  escape  notice  till 
they  could  hide  or  dive.  The  day  was  very  cold,  ice 
formed  on  our  oars  so  thick  that  we  often  had  to  stop 
and  pound  it  off,  and  it  struck  us  that  the  birds  were 
possibly  too  numb  to  fly  or  had  their  wing  tips  frozen 
fast.  A  friend  afterward  suggested  that  these  were  all 
crippled  birds,  driven  in  by  the  freeze,  but  some  of  their 
actions  and  their  numbers  precluded  the  idea  with  us, 
though  the  shooting  had  been  very  heavy  that  fall. 

Meantime  imagine  us  gliding  down  the  swirling  cur- 
rent, between  long  rows  of  ice-laden,  creaking  willows, 
now  running  full  before  the  wind,  now  rounding  a  bend 


344  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

to  meet  a  row  of  whitecaps  which  dashed  an  icy  spray  in 
our  faces,  now  pulHng  straight  away,  now  veering 
quickly  to  escape  a  sunken  log  or  projecting  ice  ledge. 
We  scarcely  knew  our  familiar  stream  in  its  changed 
appearance.  Sometimes  we  ran  through  the  woods  for 
miles  without  knowing  where  we  were. 

The  black  and  angry  clouds,  the  ice  fields,  the  strange 
sounds  in  the  woods  and  the  swiftly  moving  vistas  of 
the  ever-changing,  restless  river  made  up  an  effect 
which  will  not  soon  pass  away.  It  was  novel,  it  was 
glorious,  this  boating  with  the  mercury  below  zero  and 
the  river  narrowing  slowly.  Would  I  have  changed 
my  uneasy  seat  in  this  winter  panorama  to  hunt  any 
other  game  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  or  play  any  fish 
beside  a  summer  pool?  By  no  means.  Such  fascina- 
tion I  have  never  known. 

It  was  the  last  day  of  the  season  and  all  the  ducks  in 
the  country  were  crowded  along  that  narrow  channel, 
and  no  one  else  was  there  to  molest  or  make  afraid. 

Whang!  went  Virgil's  gun.  ''I  got  that  old  slinker 
that  time,"  said  he.  Sure  enough.  We  could  see  his 
red  feet  paddling  against  the  transparent  ice  as  he 
vainly  tried  to  dive.  We  had  learned  to  believe  it  as 
honorable  to  shoot  a  duck  diving  as  one  flying. 

At  noon  we  landed,  stretched  our  limbs  and  ate  our 
frozen  lunch.  We  had  now  nearly  as  many  ducks  as 
we  thought  it  honorable  to  take.  I  realized  that  if  we 
would  catch  the  evening  train  we  must  hasten.  So 
cautioning  Virgil  not  to  shoot  any  more,  I  took  the 
oars,  and  we  flew  down  stream  at  a  lively  rate.     Run- 


RIVER   SHOOTING.  345 

ning  thus  for  some  time  in  silence,  except  an  occasional 
"Port  a  little!  straight  away!"  from  my  companion,  I 
was  startled  by  the  double  report  of  his  gun,  followed 
by  the  whistle  of  a  flock  of  mallards  as  they  passed  up 
stream.  Two  ducks  lay  stone  dead  upon  the  water. 
"Thought  you  weren't  going  to  shoot  any  more,"  said 
I.  "Well/'  said  he,  a  little  ashamed,  "I  couldn't  help 
it ;  the  old  gun  would  come  up,  and  I  had  to  hold  her, 
you  know."  We  changed  again  before  long,  and  I 
made  a  righteous  resolve  not  to  shoot  another  duck,  and 
allowed  several  to  pass  unsaluted.  Finally  an  old 
drake  came  shooting  along  by  the  river.  "It  would  be 
a  sin,"  thought  I,  "to  kill  that  duck,  for  we  have  a 
plenty.  Shoot  him?  No.  That's  not  so  easy,  though. 
I  don't  know — I  guess — just  watch  me  drop  him  as 
he  crosses."  Now%  is  not  that  an  intense  moment, 
when  the  gun  comes  just  against  the  shoulder  and  the 
duck  seems  glued  to  the  end  of  the  barrel  ?  Every  in- 
tervening object  is  blotted  out ;  you  can  see  nothing  but 
the  duck,  and  he  falls  to  the  crack  of  the  gun  as  if  you 
had  struck  him  dead  with  a  concentrated  eye  glance. 
But,  alas !  alas !  for  my  principles.  I  had  killed  another 
duck ! 

We  now  left  both  guns  unloaded,  and  one  taking  his 
seat  in  the  stern  with  the  paddle  and  the  other  at  the 
oars,  we  went  ahead  in  grand  style,  and  in  due  time 
reached  our  journey's  end.  Here  w^e  pulled  out  our 
boat  and  locked  her  to  a  tree,  but  happening  just  then  to 
meet  a  native  with  a  train,  we  concluded  a  hasty  bar- 
gain by  which  he  was  to  haul  our  boat  over  to  the  sta- 


346  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

tion  for  the  sum  of  one  dollar,  the  roads  being,  as  he 
said,  powerful  bad. 

Virgil  started  ahead  with  all  the  ducks  he  could  carry 
and  I  followed  with  the  rest,  together  with  the  guns 
and  coats.  At  the  station  we  were  the  wonder  of  all 
observers,  there  appearing  to  be  a  general  desire  to  see 
*'the  two  fools  who  had  come  all  the  way  from  Metz 
right  in  the  dead  of  winter,"  We  reached  home  in 
good  season,  having  made  the  round  trip  in  one  day. 
That  night  we  divided  up  with  several  families,  and  the 
next  day  some  of  our  game  appeared  upon  tables  where 
possibly  ducks  were  rarely  seen. 

This  hunt,  we  thought,  paid  us  well,  not  so  much  in 
the  game  as  in  that  we  felt  that  we  had  surprised  Na- 
ture in  a  new  mood,  one  which  she  had  gotten  up  for 
herself  and  intended  no  one  else  should  see.  It  was 
audacious  in  us  to  tempt  her  in  such  a  mood ;  but  in  the 
memories  of  the  day  our  audacity  was  rewarded. 

From  still  another  section,  and  of  another  season, 
is  the  account  which  follows,  also  taken  from  Forest 
and  Stream: 

The  air  is  damp  with  a  heavy  fog  that  has  settled 
low  upon  the  earth,  the  long  grass  hanging  over  the 
narrow  road  being  as  wet  as  from  a  rain.  The  birds 
are  not  yet  awake.  Even  that  early  riser,  the  thrush, 
has  not  opened  his  eyes.  We  tread,  single  file,  the 
winding  path  that  leads  from  the  road  down  the  wood- 
ed river  bank  to  the  boat. 

Dan  takes  his  position  in  the  bow^     It  is  my  turn  at 


RIVER    SHOOTING.  347 

the  oars,  and  off  she  slides  into  the  water.  The  fog 
seems  to  have  grown  denser.  It  is  impossible  to  dis- 
tinguish objects  over  a  dozen  boat  lengths  away.  Five, 
ten,  fifteen  minutes  are  tipped  off  by  the  dip  of  the  oars ; 
still  the  fog  hangs  about  us  like  a  thick  veil,  denying 
even  a  glimpse  of  the  shore  for  which  we  were  steering. 

*'Say,  old  man,  how's  this?"  cries  Jim,  pointing  to 
a  stake  we  have  almost  collided  with.  I  feel  much  pro- 
voked, for  I  recognize  our  starting  point.  We  have 
made  a  circuit.  Jim  produces  a  small  compass  attached 
to  a  watch-chain;  we  take  our  bearings  carefully  and 
try  again.  This  time  the  trees  come  out  of  the  fog  to 
meet  us,  for  we  have  made  the  opposite  shore.  The  boat 
glides  on  just  out  of  reach  of  the  overhanging  bushes. 
A  great  blue  crane  flops  out  of  a  tree  above  us,  and, 
with  a  harsh  cry  that  startles  Dan,  disappears  in  the 
fog. 

Easy  now.  Here  is  the  narrow  stream  leading  up 
through  the  marsh.  We  change  positions,  Jim  moving 
up  to  the  bow  with  his  gun,  while  I  settle  in  the  stern 
to  paddle.  The  first  bend,  and  no  ducks.  The  stream 
now  is  scarcely  wider  than  the  boat.  Water  bushes  are 
bent  aside  to  enable  us  to  pass,  taking  care  not  to  dis- 
turb an  ugly-looking  wasp  nest  with  its  wicked  owners 
asleep  on  the  outside.  I  give  the  boat  a  shove  around 
the  next  turn.  Up  rise  several  ducks.  Bang!  bang! 
goes  Jim's  gun.  A  clean  miss  with  the  first  barrel, 
but  the  second  drops  its  victim  all  in  a  heap,  as  limp  as 
a  wet  dish-rag.  Another  comes  out  of  the  wild  rice  at 
my  very  elbow.     The  paddle  slips  into  the  water  as  I 


348  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

reach  for  my  gun,  and  down  comes  the  duck  with  a 
splash.  Dan  is  overboard  attending  to  business,  and 
quickly  retrieves  the  birds.  Nice  fat  fellows  they  are. 
Here  comes  a  straggler  returning  through  the  mist. 
Jim  has  his  eye  upon  him  and  makes  a  very  creditable 
kill.  Dan  splashes  off  through  the  weeds  and  water 
and  retrieves,  with  the  duck  held  firmly  in  his  mouth. 
He  climbs  into  the  boat,  and  with  muddy  feet  and  drip- 
ping hide  carefully  squats  upon  the  middle  seat,  where 
somebody  will  have  to  sit  at  the  oars.  Dan  never  neg- 
lected to  place  one  or  more  of  his  feet  on  that  seat 
every  time  he  entered  the  boat,  provided  they  were  wet 
or  muddy.  Jim  and  I  argued  with  him  earnestly  and 
often  against  this  weakness,  and  now  and  then  with 
the  broad  end  of  the  paddle,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  So 
after  a  bit  I  would  laugh  when  it  came  Jim's  time  to 
occupy  the  muddy  seat,  and  Jim  would  giggle  w^hen  I 
had  to  make  a  blotter  of  myself. 

Back  down  the  stream  we  turn  to  the  left  and  add 
another  duck  to  our  string.  The  fog  is  lifting  now%  a 
light  breeze  swaying  the  rice  and  cat-tails.  The  black- 
birds are  awake,  chattering  over  their  breakfast  and 
making  sociable  visits  from  one  flock  to  another.  Clear 
as  a  tinkling  bell  comes  the  pink-pink  of  the  reed  birds. 
A  tall  crane  stands  out  in  the  water  across  the  creek, 
foraging  for  his  morning  lunch.  I  produce  my  pipe 
and  light  up,  while  Jim  makes  himself  useful  at  the 
oars.  Half  a  mile  up  the  creek  we  strike  the  mouth  of 
another  stream  that  zig-zags  across  the  marsh.  I  take 
the  post  of  honor  this  time.    We  are  not  fairly  into  the 


RIVER    SHOOTING.  349 

stream  before  a  plump-looking  duck  comes  out  of  the 
rushes,  but  drops  back  as  the  smoke  curls  away  from 
my  gun.  Quiet  now,  for  a  loud  word  would  frighten 
the  ducks  that  are  probably  feeding  under  that  clump 
of  water  bushes  ahead,  whereas  often  they  will  not 
take  wing  at  the  report  of  a  gun  unless  very  near  them. 
We  approach  with  great  caution,  for  this  is  one  of  our 
favorite  spots,  though  the  ducks  have  a  trick  of  going 
out  on  the  wTong  side  of  the  bushes — undoubtedly  the 
right  side  for  them,  the  bushes  being  so  high  that  the 
ducks  are  out  of  range  before  they  show  above  them. 

This  time  we  try  a  new  dodge  on  the  feathered  inno- 
cents. Jim  steps  out  upon  the  marsh  while  I  proceed 
with  the  boat.  If  they  only  come  this  way,  well  and 
good.  But,  no ;  the  fates  are  against  us.  Out  they  go 
as  the  boat  jars  the  bushes,  but  further  up  than  usual, 
and  only  one,  most  likely  a  youngster,  falls  a  victim  by 
separating  from  the  flock. 

We  have  time  for  one  more  stream  ere  the  tide  low- 
ers. I  give  Jim  the  bow,  and  tell  him  to  shoot  straight 
and  take  his  time  about  it,  for  this  is  the  boss  stream 
of  the  creek.  He  stands  up  in  the  narrow  bow  ready 
for  action,  the  hammers  of  his  gun  lying  back  like 
the  ears  of  a  horse  about  to  bite.  That  rascal,  Dan,  is 
on  the  seat  again ;  but  this  is  not  the  place  or  time  to 
rebuke  him,  for  the  stream  is  deep  and  the  boat  un- 
steady. I  paddle  noiselessly  around  the  bend.  The 
expectation  becomes  almost  painful.  With  fluttering 
of  wings,  up  rise  two  beauties.  Jim  swings  his  gun  and 
leans  to  one  side.    Dan  thinks  it  a  good  time  to  get  off 


350  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

that  seat,  and  does  it  so  expeditiously  that  with  the 
report  of  the  gun  both  Jim  and  the  ducks  disappear,  he 
having  lost  his  balance  by  the  recoil  of  the  gun  and 
Dan's  untimely  move.  He  clutches  frantically  at  the 
air,  but  it  avails  him  not.  There  is  a  resounding 
splash,  and  Jim's  feet  are  hanging  on  the  edge  of  the 
boat,  while  his  body  is  in  the  water.  He  holds  the  gun 
at  arm's  length  above  the  water,  the  muzzle  wobbling 
suggestively  in  a  line  with  my  head,  as  he  endeavors 
to  dislodge  his  feet.  I  think,  "Good  Lord,  if  he  should 
pull  that  trigger !"  and  forget  to  offer  him  any  assist- 
ance in  my  anxiety  to  get  out  of  range  of  that  gun  bar- 
rel. But  in  less  time  than  it  has  taken  to  tell  it,  Jim  is 
on  his  feet  in  water  up  to  his  middle,  indulging  in  such 
roars  of  laughter  as  to  nearly  frighten  the  ducks  into 
spasms,  and  sending  them  scurrying  out  of  the  creek 
as  if  the  devil  himself  was  chasing  them.  You  may  be 
sure  I  laughed  with  him.  It  makes  me  smile  to  this 
day  when  I  think  of  Jim  hanging  by  his  heels,  head 
down,  in  that  little  creek« 

This  mishap  spoiled  our  shooting,  but  we  succeeded 
in  stopping  a  couple  of  ducks  as  they  passed  out.  Put- 
ting up  a  small  sail,  we  sped  down  the  Chipoax  and 
Lome,  fairly  well  satisfied  with  our  bag  of  seven  ducks. 

To  me,  Chipoax  Creek  was  a  joy  forever,  and  really 
possessed  no  mean  beauties  when  viewed  at  high  water. 
It  sweeps  m  graceful  curves  through  the  green  marsh, 
its  course  as  crooked  as  a  blacksnake's  track,  now  run- 
ning under  a  steep  bank  from  which  the  trees  reach 
down  their  branches  as  if  to  drink,  and  further  on,  its 


IN    THE    WILD   RICE   FIELDS.  351 

waters  playing  about  the  trunks  of  huge  cypress  trees 
standing  well  out  from  the  shore.  But  when  the  tide 
went  out,  how  marked  the  change!  I  have  seen  the 
very  walls  of  its  muddy  channel  laid  bare,  while  on 
either  side  great,  gray,  slimy  flats  come  out  of  the 
water,  their  glistening  surface  broken  here  and  there 
with  decaying  snags  and  dotted  with  little  patches  of 
tangled  grass.  But  it  is  not  my  desire,  O  Chipoax !  to 
revile  you  because  your  waters  leave  you  uncovered, 
for  many  is  the  time  that  you  have  floated  my  boat  and 
offered  up  your  treasures  with  unstinted  hand.  Long 
may  your  tides  flow  in  and  out  and  your  channel  re- 
main unchoked  by  debris  of  the  sea. 


IN  THE  WILD  RICE  FIELDS. 

Scattered  over  the  northern  country,  between  the 
Hudson  River  and  the  Missouri,  are  many  thousands 
of  reedy  swamps  and  shallow  lakes,  and  great  stretches 
of  wet  meadow-land,  where  the  wild  rice  grows.  In 
the  spring,  so  soon  as  the  water  is  warmed  by  the  genial 
rays  of  the  advancing  sun,  the  tiny  pale  green  spears 
show  themselves  above  its  surface,  and,  all  through 
the  hot  summer,  grow  taller  and  stouter,  until,  when 
August  comes,  the  tasseled  heads  begin  to  bow  with  the 
weight  of  the  flowers,  and,  a  little  later,  the  soft,  milky 
grain  appears  in  a  waving  crop.  In  the  good  old  times, 
before  the  white  man's  foot  had  explored  every  recess 
of  our  land,  or  his  plough  furrowed  every  prairie,  or 


352  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

his  crooked  gray  fences  disfigured  each  landscape, 
these  rice  fields  were  the  homes  of  innumerable  wild 
creatures. 

On  their  borders  the  herons  built  their  nests,  and  in 
the  open  waters,  among  the  stalks,  they  did  their  fish- 
ing. In  and  out  among  the  stems,  the  wild  ducks  and 
grebes  swam  in  daily  journeyings,  while  the  rails  and 
the  coots  ran  or  waded  or  climbed  among  the  stalks, 
undisturbed.  Here  the  muskrat  had  his  home,  living, 
in  the  summer,  perhaps,  in  a  hole  on  some  higher  piece 
of  ground,  and,  in  winter,  building  for  himself,  from 
the  reeds  and  the  stems  of  the  rice,  a  house,  solid,  sub- 
stantial, and  impervious  to  the  cold.  Here,  too,  lived 
the  mink,  taking  his  daily  toll  of  fish  or  frogs  from  the 
water,  sometimes  killing  the  muskrat,  and,  now  and 
then,  feasting  greedily  on  the  eggs  or  the  young  of 
some  bird,  whose  nest  he  had  despoiled. 

Among  the  rice  or  the  reeds,  the  blackbirds  built 
their  hanging  nests  of  grass,  supported  by  three  or  four 
natural  columns,  and  all  through  the  heat  of  the  June 
days  the  mother  bird  brooded  her  pale  blue,  black- 
streaked  eggs,  swinging  easily  to  the  movement  of  the 
rice  stems,  like  the  sailor  in  his  hammock  at  sea.  More 
solid  and  substantial  were  the  houses  built  by  the 
marsh  wrens ;  round  balls  of  grass,  deftly  woven  about 
a  stalk  of  the  rice,  roofed  over  as  well  as  floored,  and 
with  only  a  narrow  hole  for  the  passage  in  and  out  of 
the  tiny  owner.  Sometimes  a  single  pair  built  half  a 
dozen  of  these  nests,  near  one  another,  before  making  a 
habitation  that  pleased  them,  and  those  that  they  had 


IN   THE   WILD   RICE   FIELDS,  353 

left  were  taken  by  the  bumblebees  for  homes  in  which 
to  do  their  housekeeping. 

Rarely,  in  such  marshes,  might  be  found  the  nest  of 
the  great  gray  goose ;  the  female  brooding  her  eggs  on 
a  solid  nest  placed  on  a  foundation  of  reeds  and  grass, 
the  faithful  gander  not  far  from  his  mate,  ready,  at  an 
instant's  warning,  to  fight  bravely  in  her  defense, 
should  prowling  fox,  or  coon,  or  wolf,  approach  his 
home.  Then,  after  the  yellow  goslings  were  hatched, 
the  pair  led  them,  by  well-known  paths,  hither  and 
thither  through  the  rice  fields,  telling  them  where  the 
best  food  was  to  be  found,  where  danger  might  lurk, 
and  teaching  them  how  to  live  their  lives. 

But  it  was  when  autumn  came,  and  the  ripened 
grain,  loose  now  in  its  husks,  began,  as  the  breezes 
blew,  to  drop  down  into  the  water  below,  that  the 
greatest  accessions  came  to  the  life  of  the  wild  rice 
fields.  Now,  from  the  north,  singly  and  by  tens,  and 
hundreds,  and  thousands,  came  flying  the  hordes  of 
waterfowl  which  had  been  hatched  and  reared  toward 
the  borders  of  the  Arctic  Sea.  Their  numbers  were 
beyond  belief,  and  such  as  no  man  of  the  present  day 
can  hope  to  see  again. 

Flock  after  flock,  they  came  dropping  down  into  the 
marsh,  until  the  open  spots  were  crowded  with  their 
dark  bodies,  and  from  the  concealment  of  the  reeds, 
where  no  water  could  be  seen,  tumultuous  clamorings 
told  of  other  thousands  hidden  there.  In  those  days, 
when  ducks  were  food  for  the  infrequent  dwellers  of 
those  regions,  the  single  discharge  of  a  gun  would  sup- 


354  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ply  the  hunter  with  birds  enough  for  several  days; 
then,  no  one  thought  of  shooting  ducks  or  geese,  ex- 
cept to  eat,  and,  indeed,  ammunition  was  often  far  too 
valuable  to  be  wasted  on  birds.  Indians  have  told  me 
that,  when  camped  on  the  borders  of  the  wild  rice  lakes 
of  Minnesota  and  Manitoba,  it  was  their  common  prac- 
tice to  enter  the  water,  and,  fixing  a  chaplet  of  grass  or 
rushes  about  the  head,  to  \^  ade  very  slowly  close  to  the 
flocks  of  unsuspecting  fowl,  and,  seizing  them  by  the 
feet,  to  draw  them,  one  by  one,  beneath  the  water,  until 
enough  birds  had  been  obtained  to  satisfy  their  wants. 

To  such  lakes  and  sloughs,  where  the  birds  regularly 
came  to  feed  on  their  migration,  the  gunners  of  years 
ago  used  to  resort,  and,  taking  their  station  on  some 
point  of  land,  or  on  a  muskrat  house,  or  in  a  boat  con- 
cealed in  reeds,  to  have,  without  the  use  of  decoys,  such 
shooting  as  to-day  is  hardly  dreamt  of. 

Much  further  to  the  west,  in  the  arid  region,  now 
and  then  a  marsh  is  found,  where  reeds  and  tall  tas- 
seled  grass,  somewhat  resembling  the  wild  rice,  grow, 
and,  during  the  migration,  unusually  good  shooting 
may  be  had  in  just  this  way.  Much  of  this  is  almost 
precisely  like  pass  shooting,  and,  unless  the  gunner  has 
had  considerable  practice,  he  is  likely  to  make  bad  work 
of  it.  Shooting  such  as  this  taxes  the  skill  to  the  ut- 
most. It  is  as  different  as  possible  from  shooting  over 
decoys,  where,  commonly,  the  birds,  preparing  to 
alight,  check  their  flight,  and  give  opportunity  for  de- 
liberate work.  But  these  birds  darting  into  the  wild 
rice  fields  are,  almost  all  of  them,  going  as  fast  as  they 


IN   THE   WILD  RICE   FIELDS.  355 

can  fly.  The  shooting  must  be  quick,  yet  the  man  who 
flatters  himself  that  he  is  a  quick  shot  in  the  brush  will 
miss  almost  all  his  birds.  There  is  required,  for  suc- 
cess, a  mingling  of  quickness  and  deliberation,  and  a 
knowledge  of  how  to  hold  on  the  ducks,  which  is  only  to 
be  attained  by  much  practice.  As  a  rule,  those  birds 
which,  when  alarmed,  strive  to  rise  straight  up  in  the 
air,  like  the  mallard,  the  black  duck,  the  widgeon  and 
the  teals,  are  more  easily  killed  than  straight-flying 
birds,  such  as  canvas-backs,  redheads  and  bluebills, 
which,  no  matter  what  they  may  see  to  alarm  them,  do 
not  alter  their  course,  but  merely  fly  the  faster.  The 
bird  which  checks  its  onward  flight  and  tries  to  rise 
higher — which  flares,  as  it  is  termed — can  be  overtaken 
and  passed  by  the  muzzle  of  the  gun,  which  is  not  al- 
ways the  case  with  the  darting,  diving  ducks. 

A  gunner  of  great  experience,  whose  advice  is  well 
worth  taking,  and  who  is  very  skillful  at  these  swift- 
flying  overhead  birds,  states  that,  rising  to  his  feet  well 
before  the  bird  gets  to  him,  he  aims  at  the  point  of  the 
bill,  and,  following  the  bird  until  it  is  nearly,  but  not 
quite,  above  him,  he  then  moves  the  gun  a  little  for- 
ward and  pulls  the  trigger.  The  bags  which  this  man 
makes  confirm  his  statement  that  this  is  a  good  way  to 
hold  on  these  overhead  birds. 

A  stirring  account  of  the  abundance  of  the  wildfowl 
in  the  wild  rice  fields  of  the  West,  thirty  years  ago,  is 
given  in  an  article  from  the  graphic  pen  of  Mr.  T.  S. 
Van  Dyke,  contributed  a  dozen  years  ago  to  the  col- 
umns of  Forest  and  Stream,  from  which  the  paragraphs 


356  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

given  below  are  taken.  To  the  gunners  of  the  present 
day,  this  picture  may  seem  too  vivid  and  highly  col- 
ored, but  many  men  have  seen  flights  of  fow^l  as  great, 
and  can  confirm  Mr.  Van  Dyke's  account,  if  such  con- 
firmation were  needed.  This  is  the  story,  as  he  tells  it 
— a  story  of  the  last  days  of  the  muzzle-loading  shot- 
gun: 

It  was  a  bright  September  afternoon,  the  day  after 
my  arrival  at  Henry,  that  my  friend  and  I  were  pad- 
dling up  the  crooked  slough  that  leads  from  Senach- 
wine  to  the  Illinois  River.  Wood  ducks,  mallards  and 
teal  rose  squealing  and  quacking  from  the  slough  ahead 
of  us,  but  he  paid  no  attention  to  them,  and  I  soon 
ceased  dropping  the  oar  and  snatching  up  the  gun  and 
getting  it  cocked  and  raised  just  as  the  ducks  were 
nicely  out  of  range.  When  we  reached  Mud  Lake — a 
mere  widening  and  branching  of  the  slough  at  the  foot 
of  Senachvv^ine — we  drew  the  boat  ashore.  Huge  flocks 
of  mallards  rose  with  reverberating  wings  from  the 
sloughs  all  around  us  and  mounted  high,  with  the  sun 
brightly  glancing  from  every  plume.  Plainly  could  I 
see  the  sheen  of  their  burnished  green  heads  and  out- 
stretched necks,  the  glistening  bars  upon  their  wings, 
the  band  of  white  upon  their  tails,  surmounted  by 
dainty  curls  of  shining  green. 

There  were  already  in  sight  what  seemed  to  me 
enough  of  ducks  to  satisfy  any  one.  Long  lines  of 
black  dots  streamed  along  the  blue  sky  above  Senach- 
wine,  up  the  Illinois  and  over  Swan  Lake — between 
the    river    and    Senachwine — while    from    down    the 


IN   THE   WILD  RICE  FIELDS.  357 

slough,  up  the  slough,  from  over  the  timber  on  the  west, 
and  the  timber  along  the  river  on  the  east,  came  small 
bunches  and  single  birds  by  the  dozen.  Shall  I  ever 
forget  that  big  mallard  that  bore  down  upon  me  be- 
fore I  was  fairly  hidden  in  the  reeds  ?  He  came  along 
with  sublime  indifference,  winnowing  the  air  with  lazy 
stroke,  bobbing  his  long,  green  head  and  neck  up  and 
down,  and  suspecting  no  danger.  As  he  passed  me  at 
about  twenty-five  yards,  I  saw,  along  the  iron  rib  of  the 
gun,  the  sunlight  glisten  on  his  burnished  head.  I  was 
delightfully  calm,  and  rather  regretted  that  letting  him 
down  was  such  a  merely  formal  proceeding.  If  he 
were  further  off,  or  going  faster,  it  would  be  so  much 
more  satisfactory.  Nevertheless,  he  had  to  be  bagged, 
whether  skill  was  required  or  not,  so  I  resigned  myself 
to  the  necessity  and  pulled  the  trigger.  The  duck  rose 
skyward  with  thumping  wings,  leaving  me  so  be- 
numbed with  wonder  that  I  never  thought  of  the  other 
barrel. 

But  little  time  was  left  me  for  reflection,  for  a  wood 
duck,  resplendent  with  all  his  gorgeous  colors,  came 
swiftly  down  from  the  other  direction.  Every  line  of 
his  brilliant  plumage  I  could  also  plainly  see  along  the 
gun,  for  I  was  as  cool  as  before.  Yet  this  gay  rover  of 
the  air  never  condescended  to  fall,  sheer,  rise,  or  even 
quicken  his  pace,  but  sailed  along  at  the  report  of  each 
barrel  as  unconcerned  as  a  gossamer  web  on  the  even- 
ing breeze. 

I  concluded  to  retire  from  the  business  of  single 
shots  and  go  into  the  wholesale  trade.    This  conclusion 


358  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

was  firmly  braced  by  the  arrival  of  fifteen  or  twenty 
mallards  in  a  well-massed  flock.  They  came  past  me 
like  a  charge  of  cavalry,  sweeping  in  bright  uniform 
low  along  the  water,  with  shining  necks  and  heads  pro- 
jecting like  couched  lances.  I  could  see  four  or  five 
heads  almost  in  line  as  I  pulled  the  first  trigger,  yet 
only  one  dropped,  and  that  one  with  only  a  broken 
wing.  As  they  rose  with  obstreperous  beat  of  wing,  I 
rained  the  second  barrel  into  the  thickest  part  of  the 
climbing  mass,  and  another  one  fell  with  a  broken 
wing,  while  another  wabbled  and  wavered  for  a  hun- 
dred yards  or  more,  then  rose  high  and  hung  in  air  for 
a  second,  then,  folding  his  wings,  descended  into  a 
heavy  mass  of  reeds  away  on  the  other  side  of  the  main 
slough.  Meanwhile,  my  two  wounded  ducks,  both  flat- 
tened out  on  the  water,  were  making  rapid  time  for  the 
thick  reeds  across  the  little  slough,  and  both  disap- 
peared in  them  just  as  I  got  one  barrel  of  my  gun 
capped. 

So  it  went  on  for  an  hour  or  so.  There  was  scarcely 
a  minute  to  wait  for  a  shot,  yet  in  that  hour  I  bagged 
only  four  or  five  ducks. 

While  gazing  a  moment  into  the  blank  that  de- 
spondency often  brings  before  me,  two  blue-wmged 
teal  shot  suddenly  across  the  void.  With  the  instinct- 
ive quickness  of  one  trained  to  brush  shooting,  I  tossed 
the  gun  forward  of  the  leading  teal  about  the  same 
space  that  I  had  been  accustomed  to  fire  ahead  of  quail 
at  that  apparent  distance.  The  rear  duck,  fully  four 
feet  behind  the  other,  skipped  with  a  splash  over  the 


IN   THE   WILD  RICE   FIELDS.  359 

water,  dead,  while  the  one  I  had  intended  to  hit 
skimmed  away  unharmed.  I  had  fallen  into  the  com- 
mon error  of  tyros  at  duck  shooting,  viz.,  underesti- 
mating both  the  distance  and  speed  of  the  game. 

Some  of  my  friends,  who  had  never  been  west  of 
the  Alleghanies,  had  often  said  that  there  was  no  sport 
in  duck  shooting ;  that  it  took  no  skill  to  stop  a  clumsy 
duck  in  clear,  open  space,  and  that  the  duck  was  not  a 
game  bird,  anyhow,  etc.  How  I  wished  for  the  pres- 
ence of  some  of  those  friends  that  evening  as  old  Phoe- 
bus entered  upon  the  home  stretch  and  his  glowing 
chariot  neared  the  gate  of  gilded  clouds.  The  number 
of  ducks  increased  by  the  minute.  They  came  with 
swifter  and  steadier  wing  and  with  more  of  an  air  of 
business  than  they  had  shown  before.  Those  hitherto 
flying  were  nearly  all  ducks  that  had  been  spending  the 
day  in  and  around  Senachwine  and  its  adjacent  ponds 
and  sloughs.  But  now  the  host  that  during  the  day  had 
been  feeding  in  the  great  corn  fields  of  the  prairie  be- 
gan to  move  in  to  roost,  and  the  vast  army  of  traveling 
wildfowl  that  the  late  sharp  frosts  in  the  North  had 
started  on  their  southern  tour  began  to  get  under  way. 
Long  lines  now  came  streaming  down  the  northern  sky, 
widening  out  and  descending  in  long  inclines  or  long, 
sweeping  curves.  Dense  bunches  came  rising  out  of 
the  horizon,  hanging  for  a  moment  on  the  glowing 
sky,  then  massing  and  bearing  directly  down  upon  us. 
No  longer  as  single  spies,  but  in  battalions,  they  poured 
over  the  bluffs  on  the  west,  where  the  land  sweeps  away 
into  the  vast  expanse  of  high  prairie,  and  on  wings 


360  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

swifter  than  the  wind  itself  came  riding  down  the  last 
beams  of  the  sinking  sun.  Above  them  the  air  was  dot- 
ted with  long,  wedge-shaped  masses  or  converging 
strings,  more  slowly  moving  than  the  ducks,  from  which 
I  could  soon  hear  the  deep,  mellow  honk  of  the  goose 
and  the  clamorous  cackle  of  the  brant.  And  through 
all  this  were  darting  here  and  there  and  everywhere, 
ducks,  single,  in  pairs  and  small  bunches.  English 
snipe  were  pitching  about  in  their  erratic  flight ;  plover 
drifted  by  with  their  tender  whistle,  little  alarmed  by 
the  cannonade ;  blue  herons,  bitterns  and  snowy  egrets, 
with  long  necks  doubled  up  and  legs  outstretched  be- 
hind, flapped  solemnly  across  the  stage,  while  yellow- 
legs,  sand  snipe,  mud  hens,  divers — I  know  not  what 
all — chinked  in  the  vacant  places» 

When  I  shot  the  last  one  of  the  two  teal  ducks  in- 
stead of  his  leader,  I  thought  that  I  had  discovered  the 
art  of  missing,  and  fondly  imagined  that  the  skill  I  had 
acquired  by  shooting  in  brush  would  now  show  my 
friend  Everett  something  worthy  of  his  noticCo  How 
the  bright  bloom  of  that  youthful  conceit  wilted  under 
the  fire  that  now  consumed  my  internal  economy !  The 
nerves  that  felt  but  a  slight  tremor  when  the  ruffed 
grouse  burst  roaring  from  the  thicket,  now  quaked  like 
aspens  beneath  the  storm  that  swept  over  me  from 
every  point  of  the  compass.  There  I  stood,  the  con- 
verging point  of  innumerable  dark  lines,  bunches  and 
strings,  all  rushing  toward  me,  at  different  rates  of 
speed,  indeed,  but  even  the  slowest  fearfully  fast. 
There  I  stood  bothering  with  a  muzzle-loader,  loading 


IN   THE   WILD  RICE  FIELDS.  36 1 

it  with  trembling  hands,  fever  heat  and  headache  from 
its  recoil  under  the  heavy  charges  I  was  vainly  pouring 
into  it,  with  the  last  duck  that  had  fallen  swimming 
away  only  wounded,  half  afraid  to  reshoot  it  because 
my  ammunition  was  getting  exhausted,  yet  knowing 
that  it  would  surely  get  away  if  I  did  not  reshoot  it; 
painfully  conscious,  too,  that  my  chances  of  hitting  a 
well  duck  were  fragile  compared  with  the  certainty  of  a 
shot  at  the  cripple ;  there  I  stood,  delighted  yet  bewil- 
dered, ecstatic  yet  miserable. 

Never  did  Nature  make  a  fitter  background  for  such 
a  display  as  appeared  when  twilight  sank  over  the 
earth.  The  sk)^  was  one  of  those  rare  autumnal  skies, 
on  which  light  is  shattered  into  a  hundred  tints,  when, 
above  the  horizon,  all  is  clear-cut  in  sharp  outline,  and 
over  all  below  it  lies  a  pallid  glow  that  intensifies  all 
brilliant  colors,  but  throws  a  weird,  sepulchral  gloom 
upon  all  sombre  shades.  From  the  departed  sun  a 
broad,  rosy  light  radiated  far  away  into  the  zenith, 
while  the  clear  sky  on  the  east  was  changed  by  the  con- 
trast into  pale  gold  tinged  with  faded  green.  North 
and  south,  the  deep  blue  changed  into  delicate  olive 
tints,  shading  into  orange  toward  the  centre  of  the 
great  domCo  On  the  west  were  cloud-banks  of  rich 
umber,  fringed  with  crimson  fire;  on  the  east,  long 
banks  of  coppery  goM,  and  aloft  long,  fleecy  streams 
of  pale,  lemon-colored  vapor.  Over  such  a  stage  now 
suddenly  poured  a  troop  of  actors,  that  made  the  won- 
ders of  half  an  hour — aye,  ten,  five  minutes  ago — seem 
a  mere  puppet  show. 


Z^2  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Hitherto  the  ducks  had  all  come  from  the  level  of 
the  horizon.  But  now,  from  on  high,  with  a  rushing, 
tearing  sound,  as  if  rending  in  their  passage  the  canopy 
of  heaven,  down  they  came  out  of  the  very  face  of 
night.  With  wings  set  in  rigid  curves,  dense  masses  of 
bluebills  came  winding  swiftly  down.  Mallards,  too, 
no  longer  with  heavy  beat,  but  with  stiffened  wings 
that  made  it  hiss  beneath  them,  rode  down  the  darken- 
ing air.  Sprigtails  and  other  large  ducks  came  sliding 
down  on  long  inclines  with  firmly  set  wings  that  made 
all  sing  beneath  them.  Blue- winged  teal  came  swiftly 
and  straight  as  flights  of  falling  arrows,  while  green- 
wings  shot  by  in  volleys  or  pounced  upon  the  scene  with 
the  rush  of  a  hungry  hawk.  In  untold  numbers  the 
old  gray  goose,  too,  came  trooping  in,  though  few  came 
near  enough  to  give  us  a  fair  shot.  Nearly  all  of  them 
steered  high  along  the  sky  until  over  Senachwine  Lake, 
or  Swan  Lake — a  little  below  us  to  the  northwest — 
then,  lengthening  out  their  dark  strings,  they  descend- 
ed slowly  and  softly  in  long  spiral  curves  to  the  bosom 
of  the  lakCo  Brant,  too,  dotted  the  western  and  north- 
ern skies,  marching  along  with  swifter  stroke  of  wing 
and  more  clamorous  throats,  until  over  the  water's 
edge,  then  slowly  sailing  and  lowering  for  a  few  hun- 
dred feet  in  solem.n  silence,  suddenly  resumed  their 
cackle,  and,  like  a  thousand  shingles  tossed  from  a  bal- 
loon, went  whirling,  pitching,  tumbling  and  gyrating 
down  to  the  middle  of  the  lake.  Far,  far  above  all  these, 
and  still  bathed  in  the  crimson  glow  of  the  fallen  sun, 
long  lines  of  sandhill  cranes  floated  like  flocks  of  down 


IN    THE    WILD   RICE   FIELDS,  363 

in  their  southward  flight,  not  deigning  to  ah.ght,  but 
down  through  a  mile  of  air  sending  their  greeting  in 
long-drawn,  penetrating  notes. 

Myriads  of  ducks  and  geese,  travehng  from  the 
north,  swept  by,  far  overhead,  w^ithout  slackening  a 
wing.  Far  above  us,  the  mallard's  neck  and  head,  look- 
ing fairly  black  in  the  falling  night,  could  be  seen  out- 
stretched for  another  hundred  miles  before  dark. 
''Darkly  painted  on  the  crimson  sky,"  the  sprigtails 
streamed  along  with  forked  rudders  set  for  a  warmer 
region  than  Senachwine.  Widgeon  sent  down  a  plain- 
tive whistle  that  plainly  said  good-bye.  Bluebills,  wood 
ducks,  spoonbills  and  teal  sped  along  the  upper  sky  with 
scarcely  a  glance  at  their  brethren  who  chose  to  de- 
scend among  them.  And  far  over  all,  with  swifter 
flight  and  more  rapid  stroke  of  wing  than  I  had 
deemed  possible  for  birds  so  large,  a  flock  of  snowy 
swans  clove  the  thickening  shades,  as  if  intending  to 
sup  in  Kentucky  instead  of  Illinois. 

Yet,  of  those  that  tarried,  there  were  enough  for  me. 
With  tremulous  hand,  I  poured  my  last  charge  into  the 
heated  gun,  and  raised  it  at  a  flock  of  mallards  that 
were  gliding  swiftly  downward,  with  every  long  neck 
pointed  directly  at  my  devoted  head.  Wheeooo  shot  a 
volley  of  green-wings  betw^een  the  mallards  and  the 
gun ;  ksssss  came  a  mob  of  blue-wings  by  my  head  as  I 
involuntarily  shifted  the  gun  toward  the  green-wings; 
wiff,  wiff,  wiff,  came  a  score  of  mallards  along  the  reed 
tops  behind  me,  as,  completely  befuddled  with  the  whirl 
and  uproar,  I  foolishly  shifted  the  gun  to  the  blue- 


364  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

wings.  As  I  wheeled  at  these  last  mallards,  after  mak- 
ing a  half  shift  of  the  gun  toward  the  blue-wings,  th^y 
saw  me,  and  turned  suddenly  upward,  belaboring  the 
air  with  heavy  strokes,  and  just  as  I  turned  the  gun 
upon  them  a  mass  of  bluebills,  with  the  sound  like  the 
tearing  of  forty  yards  of  strong  muslin,  came  in  be- 
tween, and  just  behind  me  I  heard  the  air  throb  be- 
neath the  wings  of  the  mallards  I  had  first  intended  to 
shoot  at.  The  gun  wabbled  from  the  second  mallards 
to  the  bluebills,  and  then  around  to  the  mallards  behind 
me — each  chance  looking  more  tempting  than  the  last 
— and  finally  went  off  in  the  vacancy  just  over  my  head 
that  the  mallards  had  filled  when  I  raised  it. 

You  who  think  you  know  all  about  duck  shooting,  if 
you  have  never  been  in  such  a  position,  have  something 
yet  to  learn.  Excitement  and  success  you  may  enjoy 
to  the  full,  but  while  your  ammunition  lasts  you  know- 
nothing  of  the  pleasures  of  contemplation.  Amid  the 
shock,  and  jar,  and  smoke,  the  confusion  of  even  load- 
ing the  quickest  breech-loader,  and  retrieving  the  ducks 
even  with  the  best  of  dogs,  you  see  nothing  compared 
to  what  you  may  see  without  a  gun.  As  I  dropped  the 
worthless  gun  upon  a  muskrat  house,  and  sat  down 
upon  top  of  it,  the  whole  world  where  I  had  been  liv- 
ing vanished  in  a  twinkling,  and  I  found  myself  in 
another  sphere,  filled  with  circling  spirits,  all  endowed 
with  emotions,  hopes  and  fears,  like  those  that  Dante 
saw  in  Paradise. 

There,  indeed,  was  the  great  sea  of  being,  but  all 
one  vast  whirlpool  that  engulfed  the  soul  of  the  poor 


IN   THE  WILD  RICE  FIELDS.  365 

powderless  "tenderfoot/'  while  his  ears  were  stunned 
with  the  whizz  and  rush  of  wings  all  around  his  head, 
with  the  thump  and  bustle  and  splash  of  ducks  alight- 
ing in  the  water  before  him,  the  squeal  of  wood  ducks^ 
the  quack  of  mallards,  the  whistle  of  widgeon,  the 
scape  of  traveling  snipe,  the  grating  squawk  of  herons, 
egrets  and  bitterns,  the  honk-honk  of  geese,  the  clank- 
a-lank  of  brant,  and  the  dolorous  grrrroooo  of  the  far- 
off  sandhill  cranes. 

Such  was  the  effect  that  these  myriads  of  birds  had 
on  the  young  fellow,  inexperienced  in  duck  shooting, 
who  was  then  first  introduced  to  the  sport ;  yet  it  was 
but  a  short  time  before  he  became  as  skillful  in  stop- 
ping the  on-rushing  birds  as  those  who  had  been  at  it 
much  longer,  and  these  are  some  of  the  pictures  that 
he  paints  of  his  autumn  spent  along  the  Illinois  River : 

Though  ducks  in  the  West  do  not  come  to  decoys 
in  the  autumn  as  well  as  they  do  in  the  spring,  there 
are  still  many  days  when  they  come  quite  well,  espe- 
cially wood  ducks,  teal  and  bluebills.  Many  a  time 
during  the  middle  of  the  day  we  pulled  the  boat  into  a 
blind  of  reeds  and  willows,  and  set  out  decoys  in  the 
open  water  a  few  yards  outside  the  brush,  and  many  a 
time  did  I  have  to  drop  the  roasted  snipe  or  pumpkin 
pie  and  snatch  up  a  gun  as  the  air  began  to  sing  be- 
neath descending  wings.  And  many  a  time,  when 
yielding  to  the  soporific  influence  of  a  heavy  lunch  on  a 
soft  Indian  summer  day,  did  I  suddenly  start  from  the 


366  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

land  of  Nod  just  in  time  to  hear  my  comrade's  gun 
from  the  other  end  of  the  boat,  to  see  two  or  three 
ducks  come  whirhng  and  splashing  below,  while  the 
rest  of  the  flock  were  towering  nicely  skyward  just  as  I 
got  hold  of  a  gun. 

What  camp-fires  roared  along  the  Illinois  in  those 
days !  It  saddens  me  to  think  that  such  days  may  come 
no  more  for  me.  Driftwood  piled  as  high  as  we  could 
throw  it,  shot  a  glare  across  the  river  until  the  dead 
cottonwoods  upon  the  other  side  looked  like  imploring 
ghosts  with  arms  stretched  heavenward,  and  we  could 
almost  see  the  white  collars  on  the  necks  of  the  geese 
that  passed  high  above  us.  Bunches  of  mallards,  wood 
ducks,  sprigtails,  etc.,  hung  around  the  fire,  wath  every 
color  glowing  brightly  as  in  the  evening  sun,  and 
naught  was  needed  save  a  string  of  trout  or  a  deer  to 
make  the  scene  complete.  Cold,  and  all  other  jars  that 
shiver  this  mortal  crockery,  were  banished  there,  and 
all  thought  of  the  whole  outside  world  w^ent  whirling 
away  into  the  vortex  of  flame  and  sparks  that  streamed 
skyward  through  the  tree-tops.  Little  did  I  hear  of  the 
song  or  jest  or  the  laughter  that  almost  woke  the 
echoes  from  the  eastern  bluffs.  For  by  some  strange 
principle  of  suggestion,  some  mysterious  mental  con- 
nection, the  whole  outer  circle  of  darkness  was  to  me  a 
picture  gallery  upon  w^hich  I  could  lie  and  gaze  by  the 
hour.  The  walls  of  that  dark  rotunda  beyond  the  fire 
were  for  me  full  hung  with  the  brightest  scenes  of  the 
new  life  I  had  entered,  and  they  drew  with  them  by  as- 
sociation all  those  that  I  had  passed  through  before. 


IN   THE   WILD   RICE   FIELDS.  367 

There,  again,  was  the  bright  sky,  swept  by  long  strings 
of  whizzing  life,  widening  out  and  streaming  toward 
me  in  swift  descent;  and  by  its  side  was  the  old  dog, 
rolling  with  happy  gallop  over  the  buckwheat  stubble, 
slackening  into  a  cat-like  tread  as  he  swings  to  leeward 
of  the  clump  of  brush  in  the  corner  of  the  field,  stiffen- 
ing into  rigid  faith  as  he  crawls  under  the  fence  and 
enters  the  tangled  woods  beyond.  There,  again,  was 
the  stately  mallard,  or  more  gorgeous  wood  duck,  re- 
laxing his  hold  on  air  and  falling  a  whirl  of  brilliant 
colors,  or  the  wary  old  goose,  with  drooping  neck  and 
folded  wing,  coming  to  earth  with  impetuous  crash; 
and  by  their  side  the  catbrier  brake  or  hemlock-clad 
slopes,  where  the  wintergreen  fills  the  air  with  its  fra- 
grance, while  the  rufTed  grouse  shoots  like  a  shaft  of 
light  among  the  dark  ranks  of  tree  trunks.  And  bright 
among  them  all  were  those  autumn  days,  when  the 
bloody  sun  struggles  down  through  smoky  air,  and  the 
whistle  of  the  woodcock's  wing  in  the  sapling  grove 
sends  through  the  heart  a  more  tender  thrill  than  ever. 
Succeeding  years  have  hung  many  a  new  picture  in  the 
dark  rotunda  that  surrounds  the  camp-fire ;  but  none  of 
them,  in  all  the  freshness  of  youth,  shines  with  more 
brilliancy  than  still  through  the  mist  of  years  shine 
those  around  the  camp-fires  on  the  Illinois. 

Though  the  morning  flight  of  ducks  is  often  very 
heavy,  it  generally  lacks  that  tumultuous  intensity  of 
presence  that  characterizes  the  evening  flight.  Begin- 
ning with  the  first  gray  of  morning,  when  a  lonely  mal- 
lard, perhaps,  comes  winging  his  way  slowly  out  of  the 


368  DUCK   SHOOTING, 

circle  of  darkness  around  you,  crosses  the  open  sky- 
above  in  dim  outline,  doubles  up  at  the  report  of  your 
gun,  and  sinks  at  your  feet  with  a  sullen  whop,  the 
flight  increases  with  every  new  beam  of  light  that  strug- 
gles through  the  misty  morning.  They  fall  no  longer 
from  above,  as  in  the  evening,  and  stream  in  from  every 
other  quarter  of  the  horizon  about  as  much  as  from  the 
north.  There  is  less  rush  and  bustle,  but  they  move 
with  steadier  march.  They  are  not  shot  by  you  in  vol- 
leys like  projectiles  from  some  uncontrollable  impulse, 
but  they  move  with  more  majestic  sweep  and  more  as 
if  they  had  some  inkling  of  what  they  were  about.  At 
the  first  report  of  your  gun  the  air  throbs  beneath  the 
beat  of  thousands  of  wings,  and  a  wild  medley  of  ener- 
getic quacks,  dolorous  squeals,  melodious  honkings  and 
discordant  cackling,  as  the  myriads  of  ducks,  geese  and 
brant  still  roosting  in  the  ponds  rise  in  a  clamorous 
mob.  Again,  for  a  few  moments  the  tyro  may  lose  his 
wits  as  the  vast  horde  breaks  into  a  hundred  divisions, 
each  circling  perhaps  a  dozen  times  through  the  light- 
ening sky  and  streaming  over  his  head  without  remem- 
bering or  caring  that  it  was  from  that  spot  that  the  fire 
just  spouted  skyward.  As  the  fire  again  leaps  upward, 
the  circle  of  sky  overhead  is  cleared  for  an  instant,  as 
the  ducks  sheer  and  climb  the  air  out  of  danger's  reach  ; 
but  in  another  moment  it  is  thronged  again  with  rush- 
ing wings.  Beware,  now,  how  you  waste  your  fire  upon 
this  flock  of  teal  just  emerging  into  the  gray,  for  you 
can  hear  the  mallard's  heavy  wings,  a  hundred  strong, 
beating  the  dark  air  close  behind  them.     Beware  how 


IN   THE   WILD  RICE  FIELDS.  369 

you  waste  your  fire  even  upon  the  mallards,  for  upon 
the  right  the  deep-toned  honk  of  the  goose  sounds  most 
thrillingly  near.  But,  alas!  how  can  the  tyro  reason 
calmly  when  the  hiss  of  a  sailing  flock  of  mallards  is 
heard  just  behind  his  head  before  his  premises  are 
thought  of,  and  his  conclusion  is  rudely  hastened  by  a 
deep,  dark  line  of  bluebills  pouring  out  of  the  remnant 
of  the  night  upon  his  left  ? 

This  lasts,  however,  but  a  few  minutes.  As  soon 
as  dawn  has  fairly  begun,  the  wildfowl  travel  wider  and 
higher;  you  must  keep  yourself  well  concealed  and  do 
your  very  best  shooting.  For  an  hour  or  two,  and  often 
longer,  the  flight  may  be  strong  and  steady,  and  then  it 
will  shade  gradually  off  until  you  may  find  yourself 
waiting  fifteen  minutes  for  a  shot.  The  evening  flight 
rises  by  rapid  steps  to  an  overpowering  climax,  while 
the  morning  flight  tapers  away  into  all  the  flatness  of 
the  anti-climax. 

One  scarcely  needs  to  be  told  that  neither  the  morn- 
ing nor  evening  flight  is  always  during  duck  season 
such  as  I  have  described  it.  There  are  days  when  ducks 
will  not  fly  as  they  will  on  other  days,  though  they  still 
throng  both  lake  and  slough  in  myriads.  At  such  times 
the  flight  of  those  that  do  move  is  more  over  the  face  of 
the  water  than  elsewhere,  and  then  I  have  had  rare 
sport  from  a  big  barrel  sunk  almost  to  the  edge  in  the 
mud  and  water  of  Swan  Lake,  a  little  below  the  foot  of 
Senachwine.  Through  a  fringe  of  reeds  around  the 
edge  of  that  barrel  I  have  watched  great  flocks  of  mal- 
lards skim  low  along  the  water,  until  the  long,  green 


370  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

necks  glistened  within  ten  yards  of  the  barrel.  Then, 
as  I  suddenly  rose  to  my  feet,  what  a  glorious  medley 
of  flashing  bars  on  terrified  wings,  of  shiny  cinnamon 
breasts,  white-banded  tails,  with  curls  of  burnished 
green,  red  legs  and  beaded  eyes,  rose  whirling  and 
quacking  upward!  There,  too,  I  have  watched  the 
geese  winding  slowly  down  out  of  the  blue  sky  until 
near  the  centre  of  the  lake,  then,  with  set  and  silent 
wing,  and  every  honking  throat  hushed  as  if  in  death, 
every  neck  and  head  immovable,  drift  slowly  along  a 
few  feet  above  the  water,  until,  as  close  as  the  corner 
of  the  ceiling  where  I  sit  writing,  I  could  see  their  eyes 
sparkle  in  the  sunligh":.  And  then  what  an  uproarious 
wiifj  wiif,  wiff  of  sheerir^g-  wings,  what  a  honk-wonk- 
onk-kzvonk,  and  wha^  a  confusion  of  white  collars  and 
black  necks,  of  gray  wings  and  swarthy  feet,  would 
crowd  upon  my  eye  as  I  rose  and  looked  along  the  gun ! 
It  is  sad  to  think  that  such  scenes  are  fading  fast 
into  the  things  that  were.  There  are,  perhaps,  parts  of 
our  country  where  the  scenes  of  Senachwine  twenty 
years  ago  are  still  repeated.  But  it  may  be  doubted  if 
they  are  repeated  on  so  grand  and  varied  a  scale ;  and, 
even  if  they  are,  it  will  not  be  for  long.  The  increasing 
interest  in  game  protection  will  preserve  many  kinds  of 
game  to  such  an  extent  that  our  children's  children  may 
see  shooting  of  some  kind  better  than  we  now  see.  But 
no  legislation  can  recall  from  the  past  the  mighty 
hordes  of  wildfowl  that  once  darkened  the  waters  of 
the  West,  that  dotted  its  skies  and  made  its  cornfields 
alive  with  roaring  wings.     Nor  can  any  public  senti- 


IN   THE   WILD   RICE   FIELDS.  37I 

ment,  whether  expressed  in  law  or  not,  bring  back  the 
primeval  solitude  of  those  swamps  and  river  bottoms 
which  was  such  an  important  condition  in  such  scenes 
as  I  have  described.  Those  vast  stretches  of  timber, 
broken  only  by  ponds  and  their  margins  of  mud  and 
reeds,  or  by  the  long  lines  of  the  winding  sloughs,  those 
wide  reaches  of  open  land  covered  with  wavy  grass  or 
reeds,  cut  with  sloughs  or  broken  by  rush-fringed  ponds 
of  acres  and  acres  in  extent,  over  all  of  which  one  could 
see  no  sign  of  civilization  save  an  occasional  road,  and 
hear  none  of  the  sounds  of  progress,  save  once  in  a 
while  the  far-off  puff  of  the  high-pressure  steamer  that 
was  trailing  its  sooty  banner  along  the  distant  sky,  can 
never  be  restored. 


CORNFIELD  SHOOTING  IN  THE  MIDDLE  WEST. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year,  after  the  crops  have  been  gath- 
ered, and  when  the  migrating  birds  begin  to  make  their 
appearance,  they  resort  to  the  cornfields  to  feed  on  the 
grain  scattered  about  on  the  ground. 

When  harvesting  the  corn  crop  in  Illinois  it  is  the 
practice  to  drive  a  wagon  through  the  field,  and  to  pull 
the  ears  from  the  standing  stalks  and  toss  them  into  the 
wagon.  Now  and  then  an  ear  falls  on  the  ground  be- 
neath the  wagon  and  is  not  picked  up,  or  strikes  some 
portion  of  the  wood  or  iron  and  knocks  off  a  few  grains, 
or  a  little  loose  corn  sifts  out  through  the  bottom  of  the 
wagon  box.    This  loose  corn  lying  about,  attracts  the 


372  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

birds,  and  both  ducks  and  geese  come  to  such  fields  to 
feed.  Often,  while  gathering  the  corn,  the  men  will 
see  a  flock  of  ducks  fly  into  the  field,  and  after  making 
a  circle  or  two,  alight  perhaps  in  some  little  pool  of 
water  in  a  low  spot.  Very  likely  the  gun  is  standing 
ready  in  the  wagon,  and  one  of  the  men  takes  it,  and 
having  lined  down  the  birds,  creeps  close  enough  to 
them  to  get  a  pot  shot  as  they  are  sitting  on  the  water. 
Or,  if  the  harvest  has  been  gathered,  and  it  is  seen  that 
the  birds  are  regularly  coming  into  the  fields,  the  gun- 
ners may  go  out  and  lie  down  on  the  ground  near  the 
feeding  places  of  the  birds,  and  perhaps  get  a  number 
of  shots  in  a  morning.  Such  shooting,  however,  is 
merely  incidental — the  picking  up  of  a  few  birds  when 
the  opportunity  occurs. 

It  is  after  the  weather  begins  to  get  cool,  when  the 
little  ponds  and  sloughs  are  frozen  over,  so  that  the 
ducks  can  no  longer  feed  in  the  shallow  water  at  their 
margins,  that  they  seem  most  anxious  to  get  into  the 
cornfields.  Often  they  will  come  in  great  numbers, 
from  distant  open  waters,  and  for  a  time  will  give  sur- 
prisingly good  shooting.  A  few  years  ago,  when  birds 
were  much  more  plenty  than  they  are  now,  great 
bags  were  often  made  in  such  situations. 

In  the  pools  which  occur  in  almost  every  field,  decoys 
are  often  used.  Very  frequently  wild  ducks'  nests  are 
found  and  the  eggs  taken  and  set  under  a  hen,  so  that 
sometimes  the  whole  brood  is  reared.  These  in  turn 
breed  the  next  year,  and  so  a  race  of  more  or  less  do- 
mesticated ducks  is  established.     Sometimes  the  birds 


CORNFIELD    SHOOTING.  373 

of  the  first  hatching  go  away  in  the  autumn,  migrating 
with  the  wild  birds,  and  return  again  next  spring  to 
their  northern  home,  apparently  without  having  lost 
much  of  their  tameness.  If  no  decoys  are  to  be  had, 
the  gunners  call  with  the  voice,  or  use  duck  calls. 

Usually,  even  though  no  decoys  are  out,  the  ducks, 
in  circling  about  over  the  cornfields  before  alighting, 
pass  over  the  wet  places  to  examine  them,  and  so  some 
shots  are  hado  As  soon  as  a  duck  is  killed,  the  gunner, 
breaking  off  a  stiff  weed  stalk,  places  the  duck  in  the 
water,  thrusts  the  stalk  through  the  skin  of  the  neck, 
and,  pressing  the  other  end  into  the  mud,  makes  a  life- 
like decoy.  Other  ducks  coming  in,  see  the  decoys  and 
come  down  to  them. 

The  birds  killed  are  at  first  chiefly  mallards,  but 
later  in  the  season  the  brant  come  into  the  cornfield, 
though  they  generally  alight  where  the  corn  grows 
small,  so  that  they  can  see  over  it  pretty  well.  The 
brant  shooting  in  the  cornfields  is  chiefly  practiced  in 
spring.  The  brant  come  along  late  in  the  spring,  after 
the  mallards  have  gone,  arriving  usually  in  great  flocks, 
and  alight  in  the  middle  of  the  big  field.  Sometimes 
these  fields  contain  i6o  acres — a  whole  quarter  section, 
and  as  by  spring  the  corn  stalks  have  all  been  cut  down, 
there  is  really  no  cover.  The  gunners  must  lie  down  in 
the  furrows  between  the  rows  of  corn  stubble,  and, 
making  themselves  as  small  as  possible,  wait  for  the 
brant  to  come  within  shot.  Often  they  are  obliged  to 
shoot  lying  on  their  backs,  and  when  the  ground  is  hard 
and  the  gun  heavily  charged,  the  shock  to  the  shoulder 


374  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

is  severe.  For  this  shooting,  decoys  are  seldom  used, 
except  that  occasionally  the  dead  brant  are  set  up  with 
the  weed  stalks,  as  is  done  with  the  ducks. 

In  this  cornfield  shooting,  as  practiced  in  the  middle 
West — that  is  to  say,  in  Illinois  and  Indiana,  it  is  not 
common  to  dig  pits  in  the  fields.  Sometimes,  however, 
on  the  sand  bars  or  sand  points  in  the  river,  gunners 
dig  holes  to  lie  in,  but  this  is  usually  for  shooting  the 
Canada  goose,  a  bird  esteemed  much  more  wary  and 
harder  to  deceive  than  the  brant.  The  birds  called 
brant  in  that  country  are  chiefly  the  white-fronted  or 
laughing  geese,  with  som.e  snow  geese  and  blue  geese. 
They  have  a  peculiar  cackling  cry,  very  different  from 
the  sonorous  note  of  the  Canada  goose. 

The  shooting  here  described  used  to  be  practiced  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Green  River  and  Rock  River,  in 
Illinois.  Near  the  Green  River  was  an  immense  marsh 
— known  as  St.  Peter's  Marsh — greatly  frequented  by 
ducks  and  affording  good  shooting  in  the  season.  It 
was  a  large  tract,  so  wet  and  boggy  that  it  was  impos- 
sible for  a  man  to  walk  on  it.  It  was  very  soft,  and 
would  not  support  any  weight.-  Here  the  birds  bred 
in  great  quantities.  In  the  neighboring  valleys  a  favor- 
ite mode  of  shooting  is  to  ''jump"  ducks.  The  gunner 
walks  along  one  of  the  small  sloughs,  where  the  mal- 
lards breed,  and  from  time  to  time  flocks  of  eight,  ten 
or  a  dozen  spring  from  the  water  and  fly  off  to  another 
slough  or  pond.  From  each  bunch  that  jumps  up  one 
or  two  birds  may  be  killed,  but  no  attention  is  paid  to 
those  that  go  off ;  they  are  never  followed  up. 


CORNFIELD    SHOOTING.  375 

In  that  country  the  season  then  opened  on  the  fif- 
teenth of  August,  and  for  two  weeks  there  was  good 
shooting  at  young  ducks ;  then  on  a  sudden  all  would 
disappear,  and  not  a  duck  would  be  found  until  the 
advent  of  cold  weather.  The  birds  moved  away  North, 
as  it  was  thought,  only  returning  when  forced  South 
by  the  frost. 

In  shooting  in  the  cornfields  regular  blinds  of  corn 
stalks  were  not  built,  but  near  the  edges  of  ponds  it  was 
quite  common  to  stick  in  the  soft  ground  two  or  three 
rows  of  stalks,  and  to  hide  behind  such  a  blind  and 
shoot  the  birds  that  came  in. 

After  the  weather  grew  colder  there  used  to  be  good 
shooting  on  the  fly-ways  along  the  sloughs,  for  if  the 
wind  was  blowing  hard  against  them  the  ducks  flew 
low.  They  almost  always  follow^ed  the  water,  and 
could  usually  be  shot  from  the  shore.  A  friend  tells 
me  of  shooting  one  evening,  in  an  hour,  over  fifty  teal. 
This  was  at  what  was  known  as  the  Big  Slough ;  it  is 
about  nineteen  miles  long  and  one  mile  wide,  and  can 
only  be  crossed  where  it  is  bridged.  The  gunners  stood 
on  the  points  running  out  into  the  slough,  and  had  their 
shooting  from  there.  On  the  evening  in  question  my 
friend  reached  the  slough  a  little  late  and  found  all  the 
points  taken.  It  was  perfectly  still,  and  there  was  no 
wind  to  drive  the  ducks  toward  the  points.  At  one 
place  there  was  a  long  sand  bar,  which  ran  out  into  the 
slough;  my  friend  waded  out  on  this  to  a  bunch  of 
rushes  which  grew  from  the  water  nearly  in  mid- 
stream, and  stood  there  in  water  about  breast  deep. 


Z7^  •DUCK   SHOOTING. 

When  the  ducks  began  to  fly,  it  was  seen  that  they  were 
all  teal  and  that  they  were  flying-  pretty  low.  While  the 
shooting  lasted  it  was  active,  and  he  gathered  fifty 
birds.  Besides  these,  there  were,  no  doubt,  many  that 
were  pulled  down  by  the  turtles,  which  during  the 
shooting  season  make  a  fat  living  in  that  region  by 
pulling  down  dead  birds  and  cripples  that  are  not  re- 
covered. 

In  some  degree  this  fly-way  shooting  resembles  pass 
shooting,  but  differs  from  it  in  that  the  birds  commonly 
do  not  pass  immediately  overhead,  but  usually  fly  a 
little  to  one  side  and  not  very  high. 

Many  of  these  small  western  rivers  are  crooked 
streams,  and  while  as  a  rule  the  ducks  follow  the  water, 
yet  very  often  they  cut  across  points ;  and  where  they 
do  this  very  excellent  shooting  is  to  be  had.  The 
^'whistlers"  usually  follow  the  stream.  This  is  a  local 
name  for  the  ''black  jack,"  or  tufted  duck,  said  to  be 
abundant  there.  Besides  mallards,  the  more  common 
birds  were  the  widgeon,  teal,  butter-balls,  and  rarely 
the  canvas-back. 

Sometimes  in  that  section  geese  and  brant  are  hunted 
with  horses;  a  horse  is  trained  to  feed  gradually  up 
near  to  the  flocks,  and  the  gunner  walks  behind  him 
imtil  within  range.  Sometimes,  too,  in  shooting  geese 
and  brant,  it  is  possible  to  creep  down  wind  to  within 
a  hundred  yards  of  the  birds.  Where  this  can  be  done 
and  the  birds  can  be  approached  near  enough,  the  gun- 
ner, as  soon  as  he  sees  that  the  birds  are  becoming  un- 
easy, springs  to  his  feet  and  runs  toward  them  as  fast 


POINT    SHOOTING.  Z77 

as  he  can.  As  the  birds  must  rise  against  the  wind, 
they  will  sometimes  come  directly  toward  him  for 
thirty  or  forty  yards  before  turning  to  go  away ;  mean- 
time, the  gunner  has  covered  a  good  many  yards,  and 
just  as  the  birds  turn  may  succeed  in  reaching  them 
with  his  shot. 

Canada  geese,  white-fronted  geese  and  snow  geese 
resort  to  the  cornfields  as  do  the  ducks,  and  often  the 
gunner  may  return,  after  his  morning  shoot,  with  a 
very  varied  bag,  which  may  perhaps  even  include  a 
sandhill  crane  or  two. 


POINT  SHOOTING. 

No  form  of  duck  shooting  is  more  pleasing  and  none 
more  artistic  than  what  is  termed  point  shooting ;  and, 
when  the  weather  is  favorable,  no  form  offers  greater 
rewards. 

The  gunner's  decoys  float  in  the  water,  a  short  gun- 
shot from  his  blind ;  the  ducks  flying  by,  see  the  decoys, 
and,  if  all  the  conditions  are  right,  they  are  very  likely 
to  come  in  to  them. 

This  shooting  is  practiced  on  various  waters  all  over 
the  country,  the  conditions  varying  more  or  less  in  dif- 
ferent places.  Thus,  on  the  shores  of  some  of  the 
northern  lakes  and  broad  rivers  the  blind  is  built  of 
stones  laid  up  in  the  form  of  a  wall,  or,  in  winter,  of 
blocks  of  ice.     In  the  marshes  of  the  South  Atlantic 


2,7^  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ducking  grounds  stems  of  cane  form  the  blind,  or  again 
in  other  places  branches  of  trees  or  bushes  may  be  used. 
In  the  following  pages  I  have  described  the  chief 
features  of  this  form  of  shooting  as  practiced  on  the 
waters  of  Currituck  Sound,  in  North  Carolina,  a  re- 
gion with  which  I  am  familiar : 

The  sky  was  overcast  and  black;  wind  northeast, 
temperature  28° ;  prospect  of  snow  or  rain  during  the 
day.  I  had  eaten  a  good  breakfast,  had  struggled  into 
the  heavy  outer  clothing  needed  on  a  day  like  this,  and 
was  just  leaving  the  house  when  the  clock  struck  6. 
This  was  in  good  time,  for  the  sun  did  not  rise  until  7, 
and  it  would  take  us  less  than  an  hour  to  get  to  our 
point. 

Down  at  the  boathouse  John  was  waiting  in  the 
skitf.  Everything  seemed  to  be  there — guns,  ammuni- 
tion boxes,  lunch  kettle,  my  oil  clothes — while  from  a 
little  coop  under  one  of  the  thwarts  came  the  low 
chuckle  of  a  live  duck  or  two  to  be  tied  out  with  the 
wooden  decoys. 

The  mast  was  stepped  and  we  pushed  out  from  the 
little  dock,  the  wind  caught  the  sail,  the  boat  heeled 
over  and  began  to  glide  swiftly  along,  with  a  pleasant 
ripple  of  water  under  the  bow  and  a  stronger  gurgle 
under  the  stern.  We  had  gone  but  a  very  short  dis- 
tance when  the  whir  of  wings  and  a  splashing  on  the 
water  warned  us  that  we  had  disturbed  some  ducks; 
and  a  little  later,  vociferous  quacking  above  the  marsh 
which  we  were  skirting  told  of  black  ducks  frightened 


POINT   SHOOTING.  379 

from  their  reedy  resting  places.  Now  and  then,  as  we 
passed  close  to  some  point  of  land,  the  boat's  way  was 
checked  for  a  moment  as  the  tall  growth  of  canes  cut 
off  the  wind  and  the  vessel  resumed  an  even  keel,  while 
the  sail  for  a  moment  shook  in  the  still  air.  Agam, 
when  the  point  was  passed  and  the  breeze  was  felt  once 
more,  the  skiff  heeled  over  and  darted  forward  like  a 
good  horse  touched  with  the  spur. 

Already  the  sky  was  beginning  to  grow  light  in  the 
east  when  we  heard  before  us  the  clear,  trumpet-like 
calls  of  geese  talking  to  one  another,  and  a  moment 
later  the  louder  tones  and  the  splashing  of  water,  which 
warned  us  that  the  birds  had  taken  wing.  In  an  in- 
stant the  air  resounded  with  their  clamor,  and  now  we 
could  see  them  against  the  sky  before,  above  us  and  on 
either  hand — some  of  them  almost  within  oar's  length 
of  us. 

Still  the  guns  remained  in  their  cases  and  still  I 
smoked  my  pipe,  while  John  still  tended  sheet  and  tiller, 
for  the  law  of  North  Carolina  provides  that  birds  shall 
not  be  shot  except  after  sunrise  and  before  sunset,  and 
we  respect  the  law. 

Soon  the  geese  are  gone,  and  now  we  can  see  against 
the  sky  long  lines  and  wedges  of  canvas-backs  and  red- 
heads winging  their  flight  north  or  south  to  the  feeding 
grounds  which  please  them  best,  while  through  the 
quivering  air  falls  the  ringing  whistle  of  a  thousand 
wings. 

Such  are  the  sights  and  such  the  sounds  that  meet  us 
under  the  breaking  day  as  we  cross  the  sound  and  enter 


380  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

a  quieter  bay,  where  the  boat's  prow  touches  the  marsh 
and  we  have  reached  our  ducking  point. 

We  had  been  saiHng  over  the  waters  of  Currituck 
Sound,  from  which  the  low,  sandy  shore  runs  inland  on 
a  dead  level  for  many  miles.  Much  of  this  land  is 
forest-covered,  chiefly  with  tall  trees  of  the  Southern 
pine,  whose  straight,  clean  stems  stand  close  together, 
often  without  any  undergrowth,  and  remind  one  some- 
what of  the  forests  of  the  Northwest  coast,  if  such  small 
things  may  be  compared  with  great.  Here  and  there 
the  land  has  been  cleared  and  the  stumps  rooted  out, 
the  fields  for  a  few  years  plowed  and  sown  with  corn 
or  cotton  or  sweet  potatoes,  and  then  their  cultivation 
abandoned  when  new  growths  of  seedling  pines  spring 
up,  and  after  a  while  the  old  fields  start  new  forests 
again. 

Most  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  country  are  to-day 
small  landholders — farmers  during  the  summer  and 
fishermen  and  gunners  in  winter.  They  are  a  kindly, 
well-disposed  people,  truly  Southern  in  the  deliberate- 
ness  of  their  actions,  in  their  courtesy  and  in  their  hos- 
pitality. Many  of  the  most  intelligent  and  well-to-do 
of  them  barely  know  how  to  read  and  write.  Although 
the  winter  weather  here  is  often  very  cold,  the  houses 
are  not  built  for  cold  weather,  the  chimneys  are  on  the 
outside  of  the  house,  and  the  edifice  itself  is  perched  on 
stilts  above  the  ground ;  either  piers  of  brick  or  sections 
of  thick  pine  logs  supporting  the  timbers  of  the  frame. 
At  intervals  of  a  few  miles,  at  the  edge  of  the  road  may 
be  seen  standing  in  the  pine  forest,  churches  at  which 


POINT   SHOOTING,  381 

the  people  gather  on  Sunday,  for  they  are  most  of  them 
regular  attendants  at  church,  this  being  the  only  form 
of  entertainment  and  diversion  which  they  have. 

In  the  corner  of  some  lot  along  the  road,  near  each 
farm  that  one  passes,  may  be  noticed  tiny  shingled  pent 
roofs,  6  or  8  feet  long  and  half  as  broad,  standing  a  foot 
above  the  ground  and  supported  at  each  corner  by  a 
post.  For  several  years,  as  I  passed  through  the  coun- 
try, I  speculated  as  to  what  these  might  be. 

These  roofs  are  shelters  built  over  the  graves  of  the 
dead,  and  there  is  surely  a  deep  pathos  in  this  custom  of 
protecting  from  beating  rain  and  drifting  snow  the  last 
resting  places  of  the  forms  of  those  whom  we  love  so 
well.  Many  a  mourning  mother  in  her  comfortable 
home,  her  heart  rent  with  the  anguish  of  recent  be- 
reavement, has  suffered  an  added  pang,  as  the  storm 
beat  upon  the  house,  at  the  thought  that  the  dear  form 
which  she  has  so  often  held  in  her  arms  lies  in  a  grave 
out  of  doors  exposed  to  all  the  fury  of  the  tempest.  It 
is  a  sweet  thought  in  these  simple  North  Carolinians  to 
erect  these  shelters  over  the  dear  ones  who  have  left 
them. 

Some  of  these  roofs  are  new,  some  are  now  gray  and 
weathered,  and  others  have  still  fallen  to  decay  and  lie 
in  little  heaps  upon  the  ground.  The  generation  by 
which  they  were  erected  has  passed  away.  There  are 
left  now  no  loving  hands  to  tend  these  old-time  graves. 
Even  the  names  of  the  dead  are  only  vague  memories 
or  have  been  forgotten. 

The  dwellers  on  these  little  farms  make  fair  livings 


382  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

from  their  produce,  which  they  ship  by  rail  or  by 
steamer  to  a  market;  or  if  by  chance  their  crops  fail, 
they  turn  to  the  waters  of  the  sound  to  supply  them 
with  food  or  with  money.  For  his  canvas-back  ducks 
the  gunner  receives  $2  per  pair,  and  the  common  duck 
and  the  fish  find  a  ready  market  in  a  little  city  only 
forty  miles  away,  which  is  reached  by  water  transpor- 
tation. So,  really,  the  sound  is  the  people's  salvation, 
and  to-day,  just  as  it  did  centuries  before  the  white 
man's  foot  touched  this  continent,  it  supports  those 
who  dw^ell  along  its  shores. 

These  men,  between  the  gathering  of  their  crops  in 
early  autumn  and  the  preparing  of  their  land  in  early 
spring,  spend  much  of  their  lives  on  the  sound ;  so  they 
are  good  boatmen,  and,  as  a  rule,  know  all  the  sloughs, 
leads  and  channels  in  these  waters.  Many  of  them  are 
good  shots,  and  from  bush  blinds  and  batteries  kill, 
first  and  last,  a  great  many  ducks.  They  are  also  fond 
of  hunting  on  the  shore,  chiefly  with  the  aid  of  hounds, 
and  sometimes  follow  the  fox  or  drive  the  deer  through 
lines  of  waiting  men.  They  are  a. kindly  people,  and 
easy  to  get  along  with,  the  worst  faults  of  the  worst  of 
them  being  drunkenness  and  a  failure  to  respect  the 
game  laws. 

Of  course,  there  is  a  large  negro  population  here, 
though  it  is  said  to  be  only  25  per  cent,  of  the  whole  for 
Currituck  County.  As  a  rule,  the  negroes  have  made 
very  little  progress  since  the  war.  They  still  fail  to  ap- 
preciate the  necessity  of  economy  and  the  saving  of 
money,  and  eat,  drink  and  wear  all  that  they  earn.  The 


POINT   SHOOTING,  383 

number  of  negroes  who  have  accumulated  property  and 
become  landholders  in  the  county  is  very  small. 

Currituck  Sound  is  a  long  and  shallow  lagoon  two  or 
three  miles  wide,  separated  from  the  ocean  by  a  narrow 
sand  beach.  The  sound  is  bordered  by  low  marshes, 
in  which  are  many  shallow  ponds,  leads  and  creeks,  and 
is  dotted  with  islands,  also  low.  All  this  low  marsh 
land  supports  a  growth  of  tall  cane,  which  in  summer  is 
bright  green,  turning  yellow  in  the  autumn. 

In  ancient  times — there  are  men  still  living  who  can 
remember  it — the  water  had  nearby  connection  with  the 
sea.  There  were  inlets  through  the  sand  beach  and  the 
tide  ebbed  and  flowed  through  these  channels.  Beds  of 
oysters,  clams  and  scallops  flourished  here,  and  even 
now  the  boatman  who  is  unfamiliar  with  the  channels 
may  sometimes  run  aground  on  the  old  shell  banks 
whose  life  has  long  departed. 

Still  longer  ago  the  primitive  dwellers  on  this  coast 
drew  a  fat  living  of  shellfish  from  the  waters,  and  to- 
day at  many  points  on  the  marshes  of  the  mainland  may 
be  found  heaps  of  shells  which  represent  spoils  gath- 
ered from  the  waters  and  carried  to  the  camps,  where 
the  shells  were  thrown  away  after  their  contents  had 
been  extracted.  Perhaps  investigation  of  these  shell  j 
heaps — true  kitchen  middens — might  yield  implements 
of  this  primitive  time  which  would  be  of  real  interest. 

The  skiff's  nose  struck  the  soft  marsh  and  Gunner 
sprang  joyfully  ashore,  while  the  sail  slatted  furiously 
in  the  breeze.  Then  John  ran  forward,  unshipped  the 
sprit,  rolled  up  the  sail  against  the  mast,  and  unstepping 


384  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

this  and  raising  it  on  his  shoulder,  jumped  ashore  and 
carried  it  into  the  cane  out  of  sight  and  left  it  there.  I 
handed  out  on  to  the  marsh  the  different  articles  needed 
in  the  blind,  until  at  length  nothing  was  left  in  the  skiff 
except  her  furniture  and  the  decoys.  Then  we  carried 
the  things  up  back  of  where  the  blind  was  to  be  made, 
and  while  I  began  to  arrange  matters  there,  John  re- 
turned to  the  skiff  and  pushed  it  off  to  put  out  his 
decoys. 

These  were  piled  in  the  skiff  on  either  side  of  the  cen- 
tre-board trunk,  and  there  were  perhaps  in  all  seventy- 
five  of  them.  The  lines  by  which  their  weights  were 
attached  were  10  feet  long.  Using  his  pushing  oar, 
John  moved  his  boat  about  20  yards  from  the  point, 
and  then  thrusting  the  oar  down  into  the  mud,  tied  his 
painter  to  it  by  a  clove  hitch,  and  picking  up  the  decoys 
began  to  throw  them  overboard.  He  rapidly  unwound 
the  line  from  each,  and  then  holding  the  decoy  in  one 
hand  and  the  line  about  2  or  3  feet  above  the  weight  in 
the  other,  he  tossed  them  in  all  directions  about  the 
boat.  It  seemed  to  be  very. quickly  and  carelessly  done, 
but  there  was  no  lack  of  care  in  it.  When  all  that  were 
needed  had  been  thrown  out  it  was  seen  that  the  head 
decoys  were  well  up  to  windward  of  the  blind,  while  the 
others  were  strung  along  from  them  to  leeward,  so  that 
the  last  of  the  decoys  were  just  a  little  to  leeward  of  the 
bhnd.  About  opposite  the  windward  decoys,  but  a  lit- 
tle inside — toward  the  marsh — from  them,  were  put  the 
three  wooden  goose  decoys.  The  finishing  touch  was 
to  set  out  the  live  decoys — three  in  number,  two  ducks 


POINT   SHOOTING.  3^5 

and  a  drake.  For  each  live  decoy  there  is  a  "stool," 
which  consists  of  a  sharpened  stick  2^  feet  long,  sur- 
mounted by  a  circular  or  oval  piece  of  board  6  inches 
across.  Fastened  to  the  stick  which  supports  this 
board  is  a  leather  line  3  feet  long  and  terminating  in 
two  loops,  which  are  slipped  over  the  duck's  two  feet 
and  drawn  tight  so  that  the  bird  cannot  get  away,  yet 
not  so  tight  as  to  press  unduly  on  the  flesh. 

Pushing  his  boat  up  to  the  head  of  the  decoys  and 
fastening  it  as  before,  John  pressed  the  point  of  one  of 
the  duck  stools  into  the  mud  until  the  little  table  on 
which  the  bird  was  to  stand  was  2  inches  below  the 
water's  surface.  Then  opening  the  coop,  he  took  out 
the  drake,  passed  its  legs  through  the  loops,  drew  them 
close  and  put  the  bird  in  the  water.  It  flapped  away 
from  the  boat  with  frightened  quackings,  but  recover- 
ing at  once,  began  to  bathe  and  to  dabble  in  the  water. 
The  boat  was  now  pushed  to  the  tail  of  the  decoys,  and 
the  two  ducks  put  out  there.  Then  John  pushed  the 
skiff  along  the  marsh,  hid  it  behind  a  little  point,  and 
soon  was  heard  coming  crashing  through  the  cane  to- 
ward the  blind. 

Meantime  I  had  not  been  idle.  I  had  brought  every- 
thing to  the  blind,  had  set  up  in  the  ground  the  four 
forked  sticks  which  were  to  support  the  two  guns,  had 
taken  off  the  gun  covers,  opened  the  ammunition  box, 
loaded  one  gun  with  duck  cartridges  and  one  with 
those  for  geese,  had  fixed  the  chairs,  had  broken  an 
armful  of  cane  and  begun  to  repair  the  blind.  In  a 
short  time,  with  John's  assistance,  the  work  was  all 


386  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

done  and  I  was  standing  in  the  blind  waiting  for  the 
birds  to  come. 

This,  then,  was  the  condition  of  things.  The  wind 
was  northeast  and  I  was  facing  south.  The  leading 
decoys  were  a  little  south  of  east  of  the  blind,  and  the 
tail  ones  about  south.  Any  birds  coming  from  east, 
south  or  west  would  swing  out  in  front  of  me  and  lead 
up  over  the  decoys,  and  I  ought  to  shoot  at  them  just 
as  they  were  passing  over  the  tail  decoys.  My  two 
guns,  loaded  and  cocked,  lay  across  their  rests,  muzzles 
to  the  left.  Behind  me  was  my  chair,  into  which  I 
would  crouch  if  birds  appeared.  My  clothing  was 
yellowish  gray,  harmonizing  well  with  the  surrounding 
vegetation.  The  top  of  the  cane  which  formed  the 
blind  was  broken  off  about  breast  high,  so  as  not  to 
interfere  with  the  shooting. 

As  we  approached  the  point  in  the  morning  we  had 
disturbed  a  flock  of  200  or  300  ducks  and  a  small  flock 
of  geese,  which  had  flown  away  unharmed  to  other 
feeding  places.  These  birds  we  confidently  expected 
would  come  back  a  little  later,  and  now  we  began  to 
watch  for  them  with  all  our  eyes.  For  a  time,  how- 
ever, nothing  came,  and  I  studied  the  actions  of  the  live 
decoys.  These  were  having  a  very  good  time  washing 
themselves,  preening  their  feathers,  and  occasionally 
tipping  up  to  feed  on  the  bottom.  After  a  while  one 
and  another  of  them  swam  up  to  its  ''stool"  and 
clambered  on  it,  standing  there  and  arranging  its 
feathers.  From  time  to  time  the  drake  would  call  to 
the  ducks  and  they  would  answer  him,  and  when  a 


POINT   SHOOTING.  387 

buzzard  or  a  blackbird  passed  over  the  water  all  three 
would  call  earnestly. 

As  I  stood  there  watching  the  live  decoys  enjoy  the 
water  and  their  freedom  from  the  coop,  I  heard  John 
call  ''Mark  to  the  east,"  and,  turning,  saw  a  single  bird 
coming  low  over  the  marsh.  Gently  lowering  my  body 
until  my  head  was  hidden  by  the  cane  which  formed 
the  blind,  I  watched  the  simple  bird's  approach.  John 
had  given  utterance  to  vigorous  quacks,  which  had 
caught  the  bird's  ear,  and  it  had  seen  the  decoys  and 
was  flying  toward  them.  While  it  was  still  100  yards 
distant  the  old  drake  saw  it  and  saluted,  and  the  ducks 
lifted  up  their  voices  in  sonorous  calls.  This  w^as  too 
much  for  the  lone  black  duck.  He  passed  outside  the 
decoys,  well  beyond  gunshot,  swung  up  into  the  wind, 
turned  back,  and  with  lowered  flight  and  down-bent 
neck  surveyed  the  decoys  and  prepared  to  alight.  He 
swung  over  the  live  ducks  and  up  toward  the  drake, 
and  I  jumped  up,  put  the  gun  on  him  and  pulled.  Bang 
went  the  first  barrel  and  bang  the  second;  the  duck 
climbed  and  climbed,  and  kept  climbing;  Gunner  tore 
through  the  cane  to  see  what  had  fallen  and  to  bring 
in  the  bird ;  John  made  no  comment  and  I  said  nothing 
either,  though  I  had  missed  a  shot  that  a  ten-year-old 
boy  ought  to  have  killed. 

I  knew  why  I  had  missed  the  bird,  though  not  how. 
I  had  let  him  get  too  far  over  the  decoys  and  past  me, 
and  shot  at  him  as  he  was  going  away,  and  not  allow- 
ing for  the  velocity  of  his  flight,  had  shot  behind  him. 
So  my  first  shot  for  the  season  was  a  disgraceful  miss. 


388  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

I  do  not  know  how  other  men  feel  about  missing, 
especially  about  missing  easy  shots,  but  it  plunges  me 
into  an  abyss  of  shame  and  mortification  from  which 
I  do  not  easily  emerge.  At  the  best  of  times  I  am  a 
very  bad  shot,  and  often  my  missing  makes  me  declare 
that  I  will  give  up  shooting  altogether.  When,  how- 
ever, the  time  comes  for  me  to  get  an  outing  again,  I 
forget  all  about  my  past  misses  and  start  forth  as  hope- 
ful and  as  free  from  anxiety  about  missing  as  if  I  were 
a  good  shot  instead  of  being  a  villainously  bad  one. 
So  I  mourned  over  this  miss,  and  felt  horribly  ashamed 
that  John,  and  even  that  Gunner,  had  been  witnesses 
of  my  disgrace. 

As  I  sat  there  thinking  of  this,  John  whispered 
*'Mark  behind,"  and,  turning  my  head,  I  saw  a  pair  of 
mallards — a  big  greenhead  and  a  duck — almost  over 
me.  To  grasp  my  gun  and  throw  it  to  my  shoulder 
seemed  but  a  second's  work ;  but  in  a  second  a  duck  can 
go  a  long  way,  especially  down  wind,  and  by  the  time 
the  muzzle  of  my  gun  was  pointed  in  the  birds'  general 
direction  they  had  passed  over  us  and  were  far  beyond 
the  decoys. 

In  desperation  I  fired  both  barrels,  and  again  I  heard 
Gunner  rush  to  the  water's  edge,  saw  him  look  in  vain 
for  something  to  bring  in,  and  saw  the  ducks  like  a 
pair  of  disjointed  parentheses  melt  into  the  gray  sky 
and  disappear. 

'Those  two  came  badly,  sir,"  ventured  John.  ''Yes, 
they  came  badly,"  I  replied,  "but  we  ought  to  have  been 
looking  out  for  them." 


POINT   SHOOTING.  3^9 

Some  little  time  elapsed  without  any  further  excite- 
ment, when  suddenly — although  we  thought  that  we 
had  been  making-  good  use  of  our  eyes — a  duck  ap- 
peared quite  close  to  the  decoys,  coming  in  as  gently  as 
one  could  wish.  I  very  slowly  bent  to  get  my  gun, 
resolved  that  this  time,  if  it  came,  I  would  retrieve. my- 
self. On  the  bird  came,  looking  only  at  the  decoys;  I 
rose  up  slowly,  but  he  saw  me  and  flared.  I  followed 
him,  but  gave  the  gun  a  little  too  much  swing,  and  shot 
over  him.    Another  miss. 

Again  despair  seized  me;  and  when  a  little  later  I 
missed  an  easy  double  at  a  pair  of  sprigs,  wliich  were 
alighting  among  the  decoys,  it  tightened  its  grip.  John 
said  never  a  word  in  comment,  nor  did  I.  The  trouble 
was  too  deep  for  words. 

It  is  astonishing  how  much  room  there  is  in  the  air 
around  a  duck.  I  have  seen  the  time  when  the  birds 
were  so  thick  in  the  air  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  would  be 
impossible  to  shoot  a  charge  of  shot  through  them 
without  killing  one  or  more,  but  how  very  easy  it  is  to 
spare  their  lives.  After  a  few  more  misses,  John  seemed 
to  feel  that  I  stood  in  need  of  comfort  and  consolation, 
and  ventured  the  remark  that  there  must  be  something 
the  matter  with  my  cartridges.  I  was  shooting  wood 
powder,  and  he  asked  if  the  shells  were  not  old  ones. 
They  were  old;  but  I  knew  very  well  that  if  the  gun 
was  held  right  the  cartridges  would  do  their  work  well 
enough,  and — though  I  say  it  myself — I  was  too  honest 
to  attempt  to  excuse  my  lack  of  skill  on  the  plea  of 
poor  ammunition. 


390  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

It  was  not  until  after  lunch  that  I  got  my  first  bird. 
John  and  I  had  both  become  careless  about  looking  out, 
for  it  seemed  useless  to  see  the  birds,  as  I  could  not  hit 
them.  Suddenly  a  big  black  duck  cut  across  the  head 
of  the  decoys,  and,  not  seeing  it  until  it  had  got  by,  I 
thre\v^  up  my  gun  and  took  a  snap  shot  at  it,  and  killed 
it  dead.  It  fell  on  the  edge  of  the  marsh  and  Gunner 
brought  it  with  much  pride.  John,  too,  was  delighted, 
and  assured  me  that  the  shot  was  a  good  one,  and  that 
I  was  getting  onto  them  now.  I  shook  my  head 
wearily,  for  I  knew  what  an  accident  this  success  had 
been.  Still  I  presume  that  I  w^as  unconsciously  a  little 
bit  encouraged.  At  all  events,  we  both  kept  a  better 
lookout,  and  a  little  later,  when  three  widgeons  came 
by  over  the  decoys,  but  not  lowering  to  them,  I  doubled 
on  a  pair  with  the  right  barrel  and  killed  the  third  v/ith 
my  left.  This  was  a  little  better,  of  course,  but  still  it 
did  not  give  me  much  courage.  A  little  later,  however, 
when  a  pair  of  mallards  came  up  the  wind  high  up,  and 
I  killed  both,  I  began  to  take  heart  and  really  to  feel 
as  if  perhaps  I  could  do  something.  The  conceit  was 
quickly  taken  out  of  me,  however,  by  three  widgeons, 
which  stole  in  and  alighted  among  the  decoys  unseen. 
These  I  missed  on  the  water  with  the  first  barrel,  and 
on  the  wing  when  they  flew.  They  were  not  25  yards 
from  me. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  day — only  2  o'clock — and 
there  was  time  yet  to  kill  a  lot  of  birds  if  they  kept 
coming  and — if  I  could  only  hit  them.  But  there  did 
not  seem  to  be  much  chance  of  my  doing  that.  John  was 


POINT   SHOOTING.  391 

encouraging,  however,  and  regaled  me  with  anecdotes 
of  the  numbers  of  birds  that  certain  men  whom  he  had 
accompanied  had  killed  in  the  afternoon ;  and  especially 
of  one  who  only  a  few  weeks  before,  after  a  day  of  very 
bad  luck,  had  in  an  hour's  shooting  just  before  sunset 
run  his  score  up  to  over  thirty.  I  anticipated  no  such 
good  luck,  but  I  determined  to  endeavor  to  use  greater 
care  in  shooting;  to  take  my  birds  earlier,  to  hold 
further  ahead  of  them,  and  not  to  shoot  unless  I  felt 
reasonably  sure  that  I  was  holding  on  each  bird  about 
as  I  thought  I  ought  to. 

Meditating  thus,  I  was  watching  the  sky  to  the  south 
and  east,  when  suddenly  I  heard  from  John  the  grating 
call  of  the  canvas-back,  followed  by  several  loud  honks, 
and  sitting  down  I  strained  my  eyes  to  see  where  the 
birds  were  to  which  he  was  calling.  Peering  through 
the  stalks  of  the  cane,  I  presently  saw  off  to  the  right 
a  single  canvas-back  coming  with  the  steady  flight  that 
distinguishes  these  birds  from  almost  any  other  ducks. 
He  was  an  old  male,  white  and  handsome,  and  was 
headed  straight  for  the  decoys.  John  continued  to  call, 
and  the  bird  had  evidently  made  up  his  mind  to  come. 
We  had  a  few  canvas-back  decoys  out,  and  these  with 
the  geese  were  more  likely  to  bring  him ;  for,  as  is  well 
known,  canvas-backs  will  stool  to  geese  as  well  as  they 
will  to  their  own  kind.  He  came  on  swiftly  and  stead- 
ily, and  at  length,  just  as  he  was  over  the  tail  decoys,  I 
arose,  held  about  2  feet  in  front  of  his  bill  and  fired, 
and  the  noble  bird  fell.  He  had  hardly  struck  the  water 
before  Gunner  had  plunged  in,  swam  through  the  de- 


392  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

coys  and  seized  him,  and  in  a  few  moments  he  was  in 
my  hand,  and  I  was  smoothing  out  his  plumage  and 
admiring  the  rich  coloring  of  his  head  and  neck,  and 
the  wonderful  delicacy  of  his  back  plumage. 

"Mark  in  front,  high  up,"  said  John,  before  I  had  fin- 
ished looking  at  the  canvas-back.  High  up  in  the  sky 
to  the  south  of  us  I  saw^  a  pair  of  black  ducks,  w^hich,  in 
response  to  John's  vigorous  calls  and  to  the  invitation 
offered  by  the  live  ducks,  rapidly  lowered  their  flight, 
took  a  quarter  circle  to  the  west,  and  then  coming  down 
to  about  6  feet  above  the  water  flew  confidently  on 
toward  the  blind,  one  about  2  feet  behind  the  other. 
I  waited  till  they  were  over  the  last  of  the  decoys,  rose 
to  my  feet  and  killed  the  first  and  then  the  second  in 
capital  style.  They  did  not  see  me  and  never  knew 
what  had  hit  them.    This  was  cheering. 

From  this  time  on  until  it  was  time  to  take  up  I  shot 
fairly  well — very  well  for  me — and  at  night  when  we 
returned  to  the  house  I  had  twenty-two  ducks,  and 
believed  that  I  had  in  some  small  measure  effaced  the 
feeling  of  contempt  that  John — and  Gunner — must 
have  for  me. 

I  had  other  hours  in  the  blind  during  my  trip,  and  in 
some  of  them  I  did  better  than  on  this  first  day ;  in  none 
worse,  so  far  as  missing  went,  though  often  I  came  in 
with  a  less  number  of  birds. 

Now  and  then,  while  we  w^ere  sitting  in  the  blind, 
John  and  I  would  be  joined  by  one  of  the  club  watch- 
men, whose  time  is  devoted  to  patrolling  the  marshes, 
driving  off  poachers,  preventing  night  shooting,  and 


POINT   SHOOTING.  393 

generally  doing  all  in  their  power  to  preserve  the  shoot- 
ing. These  men  are  farmers  in  summertime,  but 
during  the  winter  are  glad  to  earn  what  they  can  by 
watching  the  marshes;  for  this  is  a  steady  job,  which 
pays  much  better  than  fishing  or  gunning.  They  are 
most  of  them  old  gunners,  familiar  from  childhood  with 
these  waters  and  their  islands,  and  with  all  the  ways  of 
the  wildfowl.  Constantly  on  the  marsh  and  on  the 
water,  they  know^  just  where  the  ducks  are  ''using," 
and  what  are  likely  to  be  the  best  shooting  points  on 
any  given  day.  They  are  thus  always  consulted  by  the 
men  who  are  going  to  shoot  on  the  marshes  under  their 
charge,  and  their  advice  is  usually  taken. 

The  life  of  these  watchmen  is  a  lonely  one.  For  six 
days  in  the  week  they  live  on  the  marshes  in  little 
houses  built  for  them  in  the  fall,  but  on  Saturday 
afternoons  they  report  at  the  club  and  then  go  to  the 
mainland  to  spend  Sunday  with  their  families.  Lead- 
ing such  a  life,  the  watchman  is  delighted  when  one 
of  the  club  members  comes  to  shoot  on  the  marsh  under 
his  charge,  and  often  he  spends  most  of  the  day  with 
the  gunner,  helping  his  boatman  to  tie  out  and  take  up, 
assisting  in  retrieving  the  birds  killed,  and  during  the 
quiet  times  sitting  in  the  cane  with  the  boatman  and 
gossiping.  Some  of  them  are  silent  men,  but  others  are 
great  talkers. 

The  subjects  which  the  two  discuss  are  varied.  Of 
course  the  ducks  and  their  actions  are  a  fruitful  theme, 
but  home  matters  claim  a  good  share  of  attention ;  the 
recent  social  events  on  the  mainland,  the  last  sermon 


394  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

of  the  circuit  rider;  farming,  past  and  future;  mar- 
riages, sickness  and  death. 

I  heard  one  of  them  tell  John  a  story  which  will  per- 
haps bear  repeating.    He  said : 

"I  never  knew  till  the  other  day  that  coons  went 
fishing." 

"Why,  of  co'se  they  do,"  said  John ;  ''they  mostly  live 
on  fish  and  crabs." 

"No,  that  ain't  what  I  mean.  I  mean  fishing  with  a 
hook  and  line.  The  other  day  I  was  going  up  a  little 
lead  and  I  come  to  a  bend,  going  slow  and  quiet,  so's 
to  see  if  they  wus  any  ducks  sitting  in  there.  Just  as  I 
looked  over  the  p'int  I  see  an  old  coon  a  little  ahead 
of  me  runnin'  round  on  the  beach  this  way  and  that 
way,  like  he  was  plum'  crazy,  and  waving  his  paws.  I 
watched  him  a  little  to  see  what  he'd  do,  and  pretty 
soon  I  see  he  was  working  around  a  little  pool  that  had 
some  minnies  into  it,  and  pretty  soon  he  druv  'em  up 
into  a  corner  and  he  made  a  rush  and  swep'  a  lot  of 
'em  ashore  with  his  paws.  I  expected  now  to  see  him 
eat  'em,  but  he  didn't;  he  just  put  'em  up  where  they 
couldn't  get  back  to  the  water,  and  then  he  took  one 
and  trotted  down  to  the  water  again.  When  he  got 
there  he  stopped  and  looked  about  a  little.  When  he 
found  a  place  to  suit  him  he  stuck  the  minnie  on  one 
of  his  sharp  claws  and  held  that  foot  in  the  water. 
Pretty  soon  I  saw  from  the  way  he  acted  that  a  fish 
was  biting  at  the  bait,  and  in  a  minute  the  coon  jerked 
his  paw  out  of  the  water  and  threw  a  little  fatback  out 
on  the  bank.    He  ran  to  it,  carried  it  up  on  the  marsh, 


POINT    SHOOTING.  395 

and  put  it  on  a  little  patch  of  grass,  and  then  went  back 
and  baited  his  claw  with  another  minnie.  Then  he 
caught  another  fatback  and  put  it  up  with  the  first  one, 
and  then  went  on  fishing  again.  He  kept  this  up  until 
he  had  caught  quite  a  number,  and  at  last  when  he 
carried  a  fish  to  where  the  others  was  lyin'  on  the  grass 
he  set  up  and  put  his  hands  on  his  knees  and  looked  at 
the  pile  of  fatbacks,  and  seemed  to  be  studyin'.  Then 
he  laughed  right  out  and  said:  'Ha,  ha,  ha!  seven. 
Enough  for  supper.'  That  made  me  laugh  out  loud, 
and  the  coon  grabbed  up  his  fish  and  run  off  in  the 
marsh." 

''Huh !"  said  John.  "Expect  me  to  believe  that  ?" 
The  lives  of  these  marsh  men  are  monotonous.  The 
watchman  rises  with  the  dawn,  and  as  soon  as  it  is  light 
clambers  up  to  his  post  of  observation — the  roof  of  his 
house.  This  is  only  a  one-story  shanty,  but  standing 
here  he  can  see  over  the  cane  which  surrounds  him  and 
can  look  down  into  the  larger  bays,  ponds  and  creeks 
which  are  within  his  jurisdiction.  He  can  see  if  birds 
are  sitting  in  these  waters,  and  whether  any  are  flying, 
and  easily  gets  a  notion  of  what  is  taking  place  in  all 
the  neighboring  marshes.  Day  after  day  he  watches 
the  ducks,  studying  their  habits  and  learning  their 
ways,  and  no  one  can  give  better  advice  to  the  gunner 
as  to  where  he  should  tie  out. 

Now  and  then  a  bit  of  excitement  comes  into  the 
watchman's  life,  but  it  is  excitement  of  a  kind  that  he 
does  not  like.  It  is  given  in  doses  too  strong  for  enjoy- 
ment.    Occasionally  the  marshes  are  invaded  by  night 


396  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

shooters,  who — with  or  without  a  hght — scull  up  to 
rafts  of  sleeping  ducks  or  geese  and  shoot  them  on 
the  water,  creating  havoc  in  their  close-packed  ranks. 
When  this  occurs  the  watchman  sallies  out  in  his  light 
skiff,  and,  knowing  all  the  leads  and  short  cuts,  he 
usually  has  no  difficulty  in  coming  up  with  the  poach- 
ers, whom  he  tries  to  drive  away.  On  two  or  three 
occasions  watchmen  have  been  shot  at  by  these  gentry, 
though  no  one  has  ever  been  injured  in  this  way. 
Several,  however,  have  been  badly  frightened,  and 
more  than  one  has  given  up  his  berth  under  the  stress 
of  such  a  scare.  Others,  more  courageous  and  wiser, 
put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter  and  give  back  threat  for 
threat.  Such  persons  the  poachers  speedily  retreat 
from  and  avoid  in  future,  for  your  true  poacher  is  not  a 
courageous  animal.  He  does  not  enjoy  a  fight.  Since 
the  shootings  that  have  recently  taken  place  on  these 
marshes  the  watchmen  have  taken  to  carrying  shot- 
guns and  rifles  about  with  them  at  night,  and  in  the 
future  the  night  shooters  may  expect  a  little  shooting 
from  the  other  boat. 

Besides  his  work  of  guarding  and  patrolling,  the 
watchman  has  little  to  occupy  his  time.  Of  course  he 
does  his  own  cooking,  dish  washing,  w^ood  chopping, 
and  so  on,  and  now  and  then  he  may  be  obliged  to  make 
a  journey  to  the  mainland  for  wood  or  water  or  pro- 
visions ;  but  still  he  has  plenty  of  idle  time  on  his  hands. 
Often  he  employs  a  part  of  this  in  trapping  the  minks, 
muskrats  and  coons  which  abound  on  the  stands.  The 
few  skins  that  he  may  get  he  sells  at  the  store,  and  the 


POINT   SHOOTING.  397 

cash  which  he  is  paid  for  these  goes  a  Httle  way  toward 
helping  out  the  family  living,  or  perhaps  toward  the 
expenses  of  next  spring's  farming  operations. 

Certainly,  these  men  are  not  the  least  interesting  of 
the  inhabitants  of  the  marsh. 

The  desirable  wind  for  point  shooting  is  one  quarter- 
ing from  behind  the  gunner.  This  gives  the  birds 
abundant  room  to  swing  over  the  water  and  to  come 
up  to  the  decoys,  offering  a  good  shot  to  the  man  in  the 
blind.  Sometimes,  however,  it  happens  that  after  one 
has  tied  out  with  the  wind  just  right  and  everything 
apparently  favorable,  the  wind  will  haul  more  and  more 
in  front  of  him,  or  may  shift  suddenly,  so  that  it  blows 
directly  on  the  point  and  in  the  gunner's  face.  One 
result  of  this  is  that  his  decoys,  instead  of  riding  in  a 
long  line  head  to  tail,  swing  around  and  now  sit  in  the 
water  side  by  side,  their  bills,  of  course,  facing  the 
wind. 

Worse  than  this  is  the  fact  that  the  fowl  which  come 
in  can  no  longer  swing  over  the  water,  but  if  they  wish 
to  alight  to  the  decoys  must  swing  over  a  marsh  and 
come  from  behind  the  gunner  and  so  over  his  blind. 
Thus  they  are  quite  certain  to  see  him,  or  at  least  some 
of  the  strange  objects  that  he  has  brought  into  the 
marsh ;  or  if  they  do  not  see  him,  at  least  they  come 
from  behind  him,  and  he  is  obliged  to  twist  around  and 
shoot  at  them  when  they  are  coming  toward  him  and 
nearly  over  his  head.  For  most  men,  I  think,  shooting 
of  this  sort  is  very  difficult,  and  usually  when  such  a 
shift  of  wind  takes  place  it  is  better  for  the  gunner  to 


398  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

take  up  and  move — if  such  a  course  is  practicable — to 
some  other  point,  where  the  wind  is  right. 

One  of  the  chief  difficulties  that  I  find  in  shooting  at 
birds  that  come  in  from  behind  the  blind  is  that  a  large 
proportion  of  them  come  quite  low,  and  so  are  not  seen 
until  they  are  almost  upon  the  gunner.  By  the  time  he 
gets  his  gun  to  his  shoulder  the  bird  is  likely  to  be 
almost  within  arm's  length.  If  now  it  flares  and  goes 
directly  up  in  the  air  the  shot  becomes  an  easy  one; 
but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  it  keeps  on  over  the  gunner's 
head  he  has  to  twist  around,  and  is  very  likely  to  shoot 
hastily  at  a  straightaway,  swift-flying  bird,  and  to 
miss  it 

I  have  never  yet  shot  in  a  blind  with  a  remarkably 
good  shot — a  man  who  took  all  chances  and  killed  a 
very  large  proportion  of  his  birds.  I  know  that  there 
are  such  men,  but  it  has  never  been  my  fortune  to  see 
one  of  them  shooting  wildfowl. 

Sometimes  a  bunch  of  birds  coming  low  over  the 
marsh  at  a  tremendous  rate  of  speed  unseen  may  pass 
over  a  man's  head  with  a  sound  which  resembles  the 
escape  of  steam  from  a  large  locomotive,  and  which, 
coming  so  unexpectedly,  has  a  tendency  to  frighten  one 
out  of  several  years'  growth.  In  my  limited  experience, 
canvas-backs  and  blackheads  are  the  worst  offenders  in 
this  respect,  though  occasionally  an  old  black  duck 
coming  low  down  over  the  blind  will  startle  one  by  the 
rustling  of  his  feathers.  On  several  occasions  I  have 
had  a  white-headed  eagle  come  so  near  the  blind  that 
when  I  rose  and  shouted  at  him  I  could  plainly  hear  his 


POINT    SHOOTING.  399 

feathers  creaking  against  each  other  as  he  threw  him- 
self nearly  over  on  his  back  and  scrambled  through  tlie 
air  to  get  away. 

It  surprises  one — though,  of  course,  it  is  only  natural 
— to  see  how  many  birds  there  are,  which  are  not  wild- 
fowl, that  come  close  to  the  blind  entirely  unsuspicious 
of  its  occupant.  Hawks  and  sometimes,  during  gray 
days,  owls  hunt  over  the  marsh,  eager  to  prey  on  the 
blackbirds  and  sparrows  whose  haunt  is  here.  Gulls 
often  pass  near  the  decoys,  and  occasionally  one  sees 
flying  through  the  air  a  loon  or  a  cormorant.  Some- 
times one  of  the  latter  may  be  seen  perched  over  the 
water  on  a  stake  of  some  deserted  bush  blind.  Eagles 
and  buzzards,  of  course,  and  the  ever-present  crow,  are 
constantly  searching  over  the  marsh  and  over  the 
water,  lookinr  for  dead  and  wounded  ducks. 

From  the  many  ducks  and  geese  that  are  so  lost  to 
the  gunner  the  eagles  and  the  buzzards  no  doubt  gain 
a  fat  livelihood,  and  the  clean-picked  skeletons  of  wild- 
fowl surrounded  by  the  feathers  are  frequently  seen  in 
the  marshes. 

Besides  these,  in  and  among  the  reeds  live  blackbirds, 
sparrows,  marsh  wrens  and  rails,  any  of  which  will 
venture  close  to  ,the  blind.  Sometimes  a  little  Carolina 
rail  in  its  peregrinations  along  the  water's  edge  will 
even  walk  into  the  blind  and  gaze  at  its  occupant  with 
bright,  dark  eye,  uncertain  what  he  may  be.  It  is 
amusing  sometimes  to  see  two  or  three  men  and  a  dog 
go  crashing  through  the  cane  in  hot  pursuit  of  one 
of  these  little  birds,   who  must  laugh  to  himself  at 


400  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  clumsy  efforts  made  by  his  pursuers  to  capture 
him. 

Often  a  Httle  whisp  of  snipe  of  two  or  three  individu- 
als pass  within  gunshot  of  the  Wind,  or  a  single  bird, 
like  a  bullet  from  the  sky,  may  drop  on  some  nearby 
point  of  the  marsh,  and  run  briskly  about  over  the  mud 
to  the  water's  edge,  probing  with  busy  bill  for  food 
which  is  hidden  beneath.  In  like  mainer  now  and  then 
a  killdeer  plover  or  a  pair  of  yellow-legs  may  fly  in  from 
beyond  the  marsh,  and  hurry  along  over  the  mud  as  if 
greatly  pressed  for  time. 

Herons,  of  course,  are  abundant  in  the  marsh,  and 
are  of  three  sorts.  The  night  heron — in  New  England 
called  quawk — and  the  bittern  are  seen  less  often  here 
than  the  great  blue  heron,  which  in  these  parts  is  known 
by  an  apparently  unmeaning  name — "forty  gallons  of 
soyp."  This  bird  is  common  here,  and  often  comes 
close  over  the  blind,  or  alights  in  the  water  near  it. 

It  is  interesting  to  watch  one  when  it  is  fishing.  Its 
huge  wings  and  long  straddling  legs  make  a  great  com- 
motion over  the  water  w^hen  it  alights,  though  there  is 
no  splash  when  it  puts  its  feet  down.  The  moment  that 
it  has  folded  its  wings,  however,  it  straightens  its  legs, 
neck  and  body,  and  for  a  long  time  stands  bolt  upright, 
absolutely  motionless,  looking  for  all  the  world  like  a 
straight,  weathered  stick  standing  out  of  the  water.  In 
this  position  it  resembles  anything  rather  than  a  bird, 
and  its  attitude  is  extremely  ungraceful.  The  position 
and  the  entire  absence  of  motion  are  due,  I  suppose, 
first  to  its  desire  to  see  whether  any  enemy  is  in  the 


POINT   SHOOTING.  401 

neighborhood ;  and  second  to  give  its  prey,  which  may 
have  been  frightened  by  the  shadow  of  its  passing  body, 
time  to  recover  from  this  alarm. 

After  a  period  of  stillness  which  may  last  five  or  six 
minutes,  but  seems  to  the  watcher  much  longer,  the 
heron,  still  holding  its  neck  straight  and  stiff  and  its 
bill  pointed  somewhat  upward,  takes  a  cautious  step  and 
then  stands  still  for  a  moment.  Then,  seemingly  re- 
assured, it  moves  on  with  slow,  careful  steps,  its  head 
turned  a  little  on  one  side,  evidently  searching  the  water 
for  its  food.  It  does  not  take  the  conventional  heron 
attitude  until  it  sees  some  little  fish  that  is  within  reach. 
Then  very  slowly  it  draws  in  its  neck  and  darts  out  its 
strong,  keen  bill,  and  usually  captures  its  prey;  not 
always,  however,  for  I  have  several  times  seen  one  miss 
his  stroke. 

These  are  big  birds,  and  birds,  too,  that  one  seldom 
has  an  opportunity  to  kill,  yet  it  always  seems  to  me  a 
pity  to  shoot  at  them.  They  can  be  eaten,  to  be  sure ; 
yet  no  one  who  has  ducks  and  geese  to  eat  would  be 
likely  to  prefer  heron.  Unless  the  gunner  has  some 
use  for  it,  it  does  not,  to  me,  seem  worth  while  to  kill 
any  bird.  Life  is  something  so  mysterious  that  it 
should  not  be  lightly  destroyed,  and  I  have  no  sympathy 
with  the  wantonness  which  leads  many  shooters  to  try 
their  guns  on  every  robin,  swallow,  nighthawk  or  bat 
that  may  fly  near  to  them.  This  is  commonly  done 
"for  fun,"  or  to  see  "whether  I  can  hit  it ;"  but  it  is  all 
wrong. 

Besides  the  birds  of  all  sorts  of  which  I  have  spoken. 


402  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

and  the  water  fowl,  which  are  so  conspicuous,  and  of 
which  the  lucky  gunner  secures  a  few,  there  are  killed 
here  occasionally  birds  that  are  altogether  unexpected. 

One  of  the  most  unusual  of  these  was  secured  some 
years  ago  by  a  local  gunner,  who  of  course  did  not 
know  what  it  was,  but  shot  it  because  it  looked  so 
strange.  This  was  a  dovekie,  or  little  auk,  a  bird  of 
the  Arctic  regions,  which  is  said  to  breed  in  Greenland, 
and  which  occurs  in  small  numbers  in  winter  off  all 
the  North  Atlantic  States.  It  is  rarely  seen  south  of 
New  York,  and,  for  all  I  know,  its  North  Carolina  oc- 
currence may  be  a  record. 

The  white  brant,  or  snow  goose,  is  found  here  every 
year  in  small  numbers,  one  large  flock  living  on  the 
outer  beach  not  very  far  from  the  Currituck  Light- 
house. These  birds  do  not  seem  to  associate  with  the 
common  gray  geese,  but  keep  by  themselves,  and  feed 
largely  on  the  marsh  instead  of  in  the  water.  Some- 
times I  have  sailed  within  gunshot  of  this  flock  of  500, 
and  their  white  heads  appearing  over  the  short  marsh 
grass,  which  hides  their  bodies,  have  a  very  curious 
appearance.  When  fairly  alarmed,  they  spring  into 
the  air  and  fly  away  with  sharp,  cackling  cries,  much 
less  musical  than  those  of  the  common  Canada  geese. 
They  are  seldom  killed,  I  believe. 

Now  and  then  among  the  birds  brought  in  by  the 
gunners  will  be  seen  a  curious  duck,  unlike  anything 
known  here,  and  which  the  ornithologist  at  once  recog- 
nizes as  a  hybrid — something  which  is  not  very  un- 
common among  the  duck  family.    I  have  killed  a  male 


POINT   SHOOTING.  403 

hybrid  which  was  manifestly  a  cross  between  the  mal- 
lard and  the  pintail,  and  have  seen  more  than  one  hy- 
brid between  the  black  duck  and  the  mallard. 

I  have  heard  of  two  or  three  strangers  from  Europe 
having  been  killed  in  these  waters.  These  were  Eng- 
lish widgeons,  usually  found  associated  with  the 
American  bird,  and  recognized  as  something  strange 
only  after  they  had  been  killed  and  retrieved. 

An  abundant  bird  on  the  waters  of  Currituck  Sound 
is  that  locally  known  as  the  hairy  crown.  This  is  the 
bird  called  in  the  books  the  hooded  merganser.  I  have 
never  seen  these  birds  so  abundant  anywhere  as  here, 
and  flocks  of  from  75  to  100  are  sometimes  seen.  More 
often,  however,  the  companies  are  much  smaller. 

If  you  see  these  birds  coming  a  good  way  off,  they 
wall  very  likely  fool  you  by  their  manner  of  flight,  and 
you  will  at  first  say  "Blackheads,"  and  then  ''No,  can- 
vas-backs." Perhaps  it  will  not  be  until  they  are  almost 
within  gunshot  that  you  disappointedly  exclaim: 
''Hairy  crowns."  These  birds,  though  commonly  they 
do  not  pay  much  attention  to  the  decoys,  come  up  with- 
out the  least  hesitation  if  they  make  up  their  minds  to 
come,  and  alight  in  the  water,  swimming  about  with 
lowered  crest  and  diving  for  food,  quite  unconscious 
that  the  decoys  are  shams.  If  you  stand  up  in  your 
blind  and  raise  your  gun  they  erect  the  crest  in  token 
of  suspicion,  and  then  may  dive  and  swim  under  the 
water  for  a  long  way,  or  perhaps  jump  up  and  offer  you 
a  shot.  It  is  only  their  swift  flight  that  makes  them 
hard  to  hit,  for  they  fly  very  steadily.     Sometimes, 


404  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

when  a  little  flock  is  flying  across  at  a  distance,  they 
can  be  called  to  the  decoys  by  an  imitation  of  their  note, 
which  is  something  like  that  of  the  blackhead — a  gut- 
tural, grating  croak. 

The  male  hairy  crown  is  a  beautiful  bird,  with  his 
elaborate  livery  of  black,  white,  tan  and  delicate  gray, 
but  as  hairy  crowns  are  commonly  regarded  as  worth- 
less for  eating,  they  are  often  allowed  to  pass  unharmed 
by  the  gunner  unless  he  is  shooting  for  count,  when  he 
will  try  to  knock  down  those  that  come  to  him,  as  each 
one  retrieved  counts  as  a  duck. 

The  red-breasted  merganser  is  much  less  common 
here  than  the  hooded,  but  occasionally  drops  in  among 
the  decoys.  Its  local  name  is  sawbill.  The  goosander 
I  have  never  seen  here,  nor  do  the  men  with  whom  I 
have  talked  about  it  appear  to  know  the  bird. 

During  much  of  the  day  the  music  and  clamor  of  the 
geese,  softened  by  distance,  fall  upon  the  gunner's  ear. 
It  may  be  that  in  some  channel  not  far  from  him  great 
numbers  of  these  birds  are  resting  on  the  water,  talking 
to  each  other,  and  often  flocks  of  traveling  birds  pass 
up  and  down  the  sound,  calling  to  each  other  or  an- 
swering the  salutations  of  other  birds  at  rest.  Often 
too  a  sailboat,  passing  through  a  great  raft  of  geese, 
will  put  all  the  birds  on  the  wing,  and  they  rise  in  a 
thick  cloud  of  dark  specks  against  the  sky,  looking  like 
a  swarm  of  bees.  When  these  birds  have  been  so  dis- 
turbed they  often  break  up  into  small  companies  and  fly 
liere  and  there  in  different  directions,  seeking  new 
resting  places. 


POINT   SHOOTING.  405 

The  man  who  sits  all  day  in  his  blind  is  likely  to  have 
some  of  tliese  moving  flocks  of  geese  pass  near  him. 
and  sometimes  they  may  fly  so  close  that  he  will  have 
an  opportunity  to  shoot  into  them,  and  to  pick  a  bird 
or  two  down  from  the  sky.  If  he  has  a  couple  of  goose 
decoys  in  the  water,  and  if  his  boatman  is  a  good  caller, 
his  chance  for  a  shot  is,  of  course,  much  better.  It  is 
extremely  interesting  to  see  the  boatman  call  down  a 
goose  and  to  watch  the  actions  of  the  deluded  bird  as 
it  swings  lower  and  lower  in  wide  circles,  and  at  length, 
with  outstretched  neck  and  hanging  feet,  comes  up  over 
the  decoys  to  join  its  supposed  comrades  at  their  head. 
When  the  bird  is  distant  the  men  fairly  shriek  out  their 
calls,  but  as  it  gets  nearer  and  nearer  their  voices  are 
lowered,  their  heads  are  bent  toward  the  earth,  perhaps 
they  place  their  hands  or  their  hats  in  front  of  their 
mouths.  The  conversations  which  they  hold  with  each 
other  and  with  the  goose  are  no  longer  shrill  and  loud- 
voiced  honks,  but  are  chuckling  confidences  which  the 
supposed  geese  on  the  water  are  sharing  with  one"  an- 
other. The  incoming  bird  still  calls  with  loud,  sonor- 
ous tones,  as  if  anxious  to  attract  the  attention  of  the 
wooden  decoys,  but  as  he  gets  nearer  and  nearer,  the 
talk  of  the  men  becomes  still  lower,  until  at  last,  when 
the  gunner  jumps  to  his  feet  and  levels  his  arm,  it 
ceases  altogether. 

Let  no  one  imagine  that  because  the  goose  is  a  great 
bird  nearly  4  feet  long,  and  apparently  of  slow  and 
unwieldy  flight,  it  is  a  matter  of  course  that  he  will  kill 
him.     I  confidently  assert  that  there  is  nearly  as  much 


406  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

room  in  the  air  around  a  goose  as  there  is  around  a 
duck,  and  unless  your  gun  is  carefully  held  you  will 
shoot  behind  the  bird.  If  you  miss  him  with  your  first 
barrel  you  are  very  likely  to  miss  him  also  with  the 
second,  which  is  likely  to  be  fired  with  undue  haste.  If, 
however,  your  first  barrel  has  done  the  work,  and  he 
falls  to  the  water,  your  boatman  is  certain  to  ofi^er  you 
cordial  congratulations  which  will  warm  the  cockles  of 
your  heart. 

Often  it  may  happen  that,  while  the  goose  does  not 
come  down  to  the  decoys,  he  will  alter  his  flight  and 
pass  over  the  blind  within  long  range.  In  such  a  case 
your  shot  may  perhaps  fail  to  break  any  bone,  and  yet 
may  mortally  wound  the  bird,  which,  after  making  a 
wide  circuit  or  a  long  flight,  will  at  last  come  to  the 
water  stone  dead. 

The  dogs  used  in  this  gunning  are  Chesapeake  Bay 
dogs,  brown  or  tan  in  color,  and  with  coats  long  or 
short,  straight  or  curly.  They  are  admirable  water 
dogs,  and  those  which  are  well  trained  do  work  that  is 
really  marvelous. 

To  me  these  dogs  look  like  the  pure  bred  Newfound- 
lands which  we  used  to  see  years  ago,  before  the  New- 
foundland had  been  crossed  with  the  rough  St.  Ber- 
nard, to  give  him  the  size  which  is  regarded  as  essential 
for  show  purposes,  I  know  that  it  is  often  said  that  the 
Chesapeake  Bay  dogs  are  a  breed  formed  by  crossing 
the  Irish  water  spaniel  with  the  Newfoundland,  but  I 
can  see  in  the  specimens  that  have  come  under  my  eye 
no  trace  of  water  spaniel  character,  except  perhaps 


POINT    SHOOTING.  407 

color,  and  every  mark  of  Newfoundland.  Even  the 
color  is  not  that  of  the  spaniel,  for  we  know  that  the 
original  Newfoundland  was  often  tan  colored,  or  had 
tan  points.  The  very  small  ears,  the  broad  head,  the 
short  muzzle,  the  lack  of  feather  on  legs  and  abundantly 
feathered  tail — the  whole  ensemble  of  the  animal,  in 
fact — to  my  mind  point  back  to  a  Newfoundland  an- 
cestry much  purer  than  anything  we  are  in  the  way  of 
seeing  nowadays. 

I  prefer  to  believe  the  tradition  which  relates  that  the 
Chesapeake  Bay  dogs  originated  from  two  puppies 
rescued  from  a  sinking  ship  which  had  sailed  from 
Newfoundland  and  brought  to  Baltimore,  and  that 
these  dogs  are  Newfoundland  dogs  of  the  old  type,  than 
which  no  more  faithful,  intelligent  and  vigorous  breed 
ever  existed.  It  may  be  that  the  race  has  not  been  kept 
pure,  yet  I  think  it  has;  for  we  see  them  generation 
after  generation  showing  the  same  physical  character- 
istics, the  same  splendid  courage  and  endurance,  and 
the  same  intelligence  and  love  for  the  water. 

I  am  told  by  a  friend  that  these  dogs  can  readily  be 
trained  to  work  to  the  gun  in  upland  shooting,  and  that 
when  so  taught  they  display  unexcelled  nose  and  bird 
sense,  and  I  regard  them  as  most  valuable  dogs,  and 
wonder  that  a  breed  so  valuable  has  been  so  neglected. 

The  amount  of  work  that  these  dogs  will  perform  is 
very  surprising.  From  just  after  sunrise  until  sun- 
down, in  cold,  blustering  weather,  they  will  bring  the 
ducks,  swimming  perhaps  75  or  100  yards  for  each  one, 
or  hunting  through  the  thick  cane  for  those  that  have 


408  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

fallen  on  the  marsh.  Often  each  trip  to  bring  a  duck  is 
made  in  part  over  soft  mud,  through  which  the  dog 
must  wallow,  as  it  is  too  thick  for  swimming  and  yet 
too  soft  for  walking ;  often  the  ice  must  be  broken  for  a 
long  distance  to  get  to  the  bird ;  often  the  ice  is  too  weak 
to  support  the  dog,  who  breaks  through  every  little 
while,  and  then  must  laboriously  and  carefully  clamber 
out  on  the  breaking  ice  in  pursuit  of  a  cripple  which  is 
moving  along  toward  a  distant  marsh  or  toward  open 
water, 

I  have  often  seen  a  dog  bringing  a  bird  over  thin  ice 
lie  down  on  his  belly  with  widely  spread  forelegs  and 
drag  himself  along  inch  by  inch,  thus  spreading  his 
weight  over  as  great  a  surface  as  possible  so  as  to  avoid 
breaking  through.  Then,  when  a  place  was  reached 
where  the  ice  was  stronger,  he  would  carefully  rise  to 
his  feet  and  trot  along  until  the  yielding  ice  again 
warned  him  that  he  must  use  especial  care.  In  a  case 
where  several  trials  had  shown  a  dog  that  the  ice  would 
not  bear  him,  and  that  it  was  a  waste  of  time  for  him 
to  try  to  travel  on  it,  I  have  seen  him  advance  by 
bounds,  springing  out  of  the  water  and  coming  down 
with  all  his  weight  on  the  ice,  thus  breaking  a  lane 
through  it  to  the  bird.  In  this  particular  case  the  dog's 
stifles  were  so  bruised  by  continual  blows  against  the 
sharp  edges  of  the  ice  that  next  day  he  was  extremely 
sore  and  lame  in  both  hind  legs. 

Another  bit  of  ice  work  done  by  another  dog  seemed 
to  me  to  show  great  intelligence.  A  bird  had  been  shot 
high  in  the  air  and  had  fallen  heavily  on  thin  ice  40 


POINT   SHOOTING.  409 

yards  in  front  of  the  blind.  It  had  gone  through 
the  ice  and  did  not  reappear.  The  dog  sent  out 
seemed  disposed  to  cress  the  ice  to  the  opposite  marsh, 
but,  called  back,  found  the  hole  through  which  the  duck 
had  gone,  but  not  the  duck,  though  it  was  evident  that 
he  smelt  it.  He  made  several  casts  about  the  hole,  but 
did  not  catch  any  scent,  and  then  went  back  toward  the 
hole,  but  when  3  or  4  feet  from  it  stopped,  looked 
at  the  ice  and  began  to  scratch.  In  a  moment  or  two 
he  had  made  a  small  hole  through  the  thin  and  soft  ice, 
and,  quickly  enlarging  it,  put  his  mouth  down  into 
the  water,  pulled  out  the  duck,  and  brought  it  to  shore. 
I  believe  his  finding  the  duck — which  had  evidently  had 
life  enough  to  swim  a  little  way  under  the  ice — was 
pure  accident ;  he  happened  to  see  it ;  but  his  digging 
the  hole  in  the  ice  showed  wisdom. 

These  dogs  have  keen  noses.  They  follow  unerringly 
the  trail  of  a  duck  through  the  thick  cane,  and  can  trail 
a  crippled  duck  that  has  gone  ashore  on  the  marsh  to 
the  spot  where  he  landed  by  the  scent  that  his  body 
leaves  on  the  water.  I  have  seen  this  done  many  times. 
They  understand  perfectly  the  live  decoy  ducks,  and 
swim  to  and  fro  past  them  without  in  the  least  regard- 
ing them,  though  the  decoys  do  not  seem  to  like  it  if  the 
dog  comes  too  close  to  them,  and  splash  and  qtiack  at 
a  great  rate  until  he  has  gone  by. 

If  properly  trained,  I  imagine  that  these  dogs  are  the 
best  retrievers  in  the  world ;  but  often  they  are  not  well 
trained.  Some  dogs  will  bring  the  duck  to  shore  and 
then  drop  it,  leaving  the  boatman  to  go  out  and  bring 


4IO  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

it  to  the  blind ;  others,  after  bringing  them  ashore,  will 
bite  their  birds  badly,  or  will  carry  them  into  the  marsh 
and  leave  them  there.  I  have  heard  of  a  dog  that  got 
tired  and  refused  to  go  for  his  birds ;  but,  being  forced 
to  go  out,  swam  back  to  the  marsh  with  the  bird,  car- 
ried it  into  the  cane,  and  after  being  gone  a  long  time 
returned  to  the  blind  with  his  paws  and  nose  quite 
muddy.  A  search  in  the  marsh  by  the  boatman  re- 
vealed the  fact  that  he  had  carried  the  duck  a  little  way 
in  from  the  shore,  and  had  then  dug  a  hole  and  buried 
it  so  completely  that  only  one  wing  and  the  legs  showed 
above  the  earth  he  had  heaped  on  it. 

These  dogs,  like  any  others,  require  careful  handling 
by  a  judicious  trainer,  and  in  addition,  as  they  are  great, 
strong  animals,  they  require  a  great  amount  of  work. 
A  properly  trained  dog,  however,  is  an  indispensable 
adjunct  to  the  point  shooter,  and  will  save  him  a  great 
number  of  birds  in  a  season. 

The  birds  which  pass  over  or  stop  on  the  marsh  are 
its  most  obvious  inhabitants ;  but  there  are  many  others 
which  the  casual  visitor  scarcely  ever  sees.  Of  these 
the  largest  are  the  half-wild  horses,  cattle  and  hogs 
turned  out  to  winter  by  their  owners.  They  feed 
among  the  tall  cane,  and  only  now  and  then  come  to  the 
water's  edge  to  drink  or  to  eat  the  succulent  water 
plants  that  drift  against  the  shore. 

With  these  animals  the  struggle  for  existence  must 
be  a  severe  one ;  for,  to  one  accustomed  to  the  pastures 
of  the  North  or  West  it  would  seem  that  there  is  little 
or  nothing  to  eat  on  the  marsh.    Of  course,  vegetation 


POINT  SHOOTING,  4" 

is  not  lacking;  but  there  can  be  little  nutriment  in  the 
hard  cane  or  it§  harih  leaves,  or  in  the  coarse,  round 
marsh  grass  which  grows  only  in  infrequent  patches. 
The  drifting  grass,  which  eon%\%i$  of  the  rejected  por- 
tions of  the  water  plants  pulled  w^  by  the  wildfowl  in 
their  search  for  its  roots,  is  scanty  in  quantity,  and  can 
hardly  l>c  very  nourishing  food.  The  hogs  do  better 
than  horses  or  cattle,  for  they  unearth  the  roots  oi  the 
cane  and  tlie  flags,  and  must  procure  not  a  little  animal 
food. 

The  horses  are  confined  to  the  outer  beach,  and  visit 
the  adjacent  marsh  only  to  ittd.  They  are  little  ani- 
mals, not  unlike  the  well-known  Chincoteague  beach 
ponies,  and  are  all  branded.  They  are  a  tough  and 
hardy  race,  rjual ificd  through  inheritance  and  experi- 
ence well  to  fight  the  battle  of  life.  The  cattle  are 
small,  wild  and  scrawny. 

Occasionally  when  you  are  sailing  through  these 
waters  you  will  see,  as  yoit  pass  a  watchman's  house,  a 
fresh  skin  tacked  up  to  dry,  and  the  long,  ringed  tail 
hanging  down  from  it  at  once  proclaims  its  species. 
Coons  are  abundant  here,  and  it  is  not  strange  that  they 
are  so.  In  summer  the  nesting  birds  and  in  winter  the 
crip|)Ied  ducks  furnish  them  feathered  food,  while  at  all 
seasons  the  waters  abound  in  fish.  We  are  most  of  us 
accustomed  to  think  of  coons  as  passing  a  fi;iH)(i  part  ol 
their  time  in  trees,  but  the  coons  of  the  marsh  must  by 
this  time,  I  should  think,  have  lost  the  art  of  tree 
climbing;  since,  except  for  an  occasional  straggling 
pillentary  bush,  there  is  here  nothing  larger  to  climb 


412  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

than  a  stalk  of  cane.  Rarely  seen  by  the  gunner,  the 
coon  lives  an  easy,  lazy  life  here.  Now  and  then  he  puts 
his  foot  in  a  marshman's  trap,  and  less  often  a  gunner's 
dog,  hunting  for  a  wounded  duck,  may  suddenly  fall 
upon  him,  and  the  sound  of  the  fight  will  empty 
the  blind,  and  bring  boatman  and  gunner  crashing 
through  the  cane  to  learn  the  cause  of  the  disturbance. 
It  is  in  such  ways  as  these  that  the  coon  is  sometimes 
killed. 

Next  in  order  after  the  coon  comes  the  mink — 
artful,  ferocious,  daring.  Like  the  coon,  he  fishes  and 
hunts,  but  he  has  ten  times  the  coon's  energy.  Not 
satisfied  with  the  wild  game  of  the  marsh,  he  prowls 
about  the  blind  and  may  steal  a  duck,  if  one  is  carelessly 
left  at  a  little  distance.  He  fights  the  muskrat,  and 
sometimes  kills  and  eats  him,  and  then  he  goes  fishing 
every  day.  The  mink  is  rarely  killed  except  by  the 
trapper. 

The  muskrat  is  everywhere,  and  if  you  have  occasion 
to  walk  across  the  marsh  you  will  now  and  then  plunge 
thigh  deep  into  one  of  the  holes  that  it  has  dug.  Some- 
times as  you  sit  in  your  blind  you  will  see  it  swimming 
toward  your  decoys,  or  crossing  some  lead  not  far  away. 
It  does  no  special  harm  except  by  its  burrowing,  which 
breaks  away  the  marsh,  destroys  ditches  that  may  have 
been  cut,  and  makes  pitfalls  for  the  careless  to  fall  into. 

In  the  winter,  when  I  see  the  marsh,  its  reptiles  are 
safely  hidden  away  in  their  warm  sleeping  places.  So 
it  is  that  the  snakes,  if  any  there  be,  and  the  tortoises  are 
not  seen.    But  in  summer,  I  am  told,  there  are  snake? 


POINT   SHOOTING.  413 

V 

and  snappers  and  terrapin ;  of  these  last  there  are  not 
many. 

All  through  the  winter,  however — except  when,  as 
sometimes  occurs,  a  freeze  has  locked  the  waters  of  the 
sound — there  are  fish  a-plenty.  Of  course  the  most  im- 
portant and  valuable  are  chub,  which  I  take  to  be  the 
large-mouthed  black  bass;  but  there  are  many  other 
smaller  sorts  which  may  or  may  not  be  good  to  eat. 
The  common  blue  crab  abounds  here  in  summer,  and 
everywhere  on  the  marsh  its  shells  may  be  seen — the 
relics  of  feasts  had  by  the  coons. 

In  the  spring  and  the  late  summer  these  marshes  are 
the  resting  places  of  thousands  on  thousands  of  beach 
birds  and  rails.  Here  may  be  found  great  flocks  of 
waders  of  all  descriptions,  from  the  tiniest  sandpiper 
up  to  the  great  sickle-bill  curlew.  These  sandpipers 
and  rails  wade  busily  about  over  the  mud  flats  where 
the  ducks  have  been  swimming  or  probe  them  for  food. 
Then  gulls  of  many  sorts  winnow  their  slow  way  over 
the  broad  channels,  and  companies  of  sea  swallows  hunt 
the  schools  of  tiny  fish  that  swim  in  the  shallows. 

.  At  whatever  season  of  the  year  you  take  it,  the  life 
of  the  marsh  is  abundant,  and  is  worth  observation  and 
study. 

We  are  told  that  it  is  the  dying  swan  that  sings  the 
sweetest  song.  Those  that  we  see  about  the  marsh 
are  musical  enough,  but  so  few  of  them  are  killed  that 
I  cannot  believe  that  the  ordinary  note  which  they  utter 
is  the  one  which  immediately  precedes  death.  Yet  it  is 
a  soft,  sweet  call,  high  pitched,  pleasing  and  hard  to 


414  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

imitate.  Koo,  koo,  kookoo,  koo,  is  the  way  it  goes,  the 
flock  calHng  to  their  leader,  and  the  leader  answering 
them  again. 

In  ancient  song  and  in  story  the  swan  holds  a  firm 
place,  nor  is  his  eminence  confined  to  any  land.  To 
Lohengrin  in  his  search  for  the  Holy  Grail,  and  to  the 
Blackfoot  Indian  seeking  out  the  home  of  the  Sun, 
swans  come  as  supernatural  helpers. 

Its  size,  the  purity  of  its  plumage,  and  its  soft,  sweet 
notes  make  the  swan  always  a  striking  object,  and  it  is 
not  strange  that  this  bird  should  have  impressed  itself 
on  the  imagination  of  all  peoples,  and  that  this  im- 
pression should  find  voice  in  the  folk  stories  of  races 
which  have  attained  the  highest  civilization  and  culture, 
as  well  as  of  tribes  that  are  still  savages.  As  the  mind 
of  man  is  everywhere  the  same,  so  we  see  that  swans 
are  used  by  the  ancient  gods  as  messengers  and  beasts 
of  burden,  and  in  the  same  way  and  with  a  like  object 
they  draw  the  boat  of  a  Lohengrin  and  carry  across  the 
ocean  an  American  Scarface. 

The  swans  move  slowly  through  the  sky,  with  wing- 
beats'  that  seem  heavy  and  labored,  but  which  carry 
them  forward  at  a  high  rate  of  speed.  If  that  flock  were 
near  enough  for  you  to  kill  one  of  those  birds  and  you 
did  so,  you  would  find  that  in  falling  his  impetus  would 
vcarry  him  a  long  way  forward  before  he  struck  the 
€artli  or  the  water. 

Swans  are  killed  usually  only  when  by  chance  they 
fly  over  the  blind  low  enough  to  be  reached  with  a  shot- 
gun.   Few  gunners  have  swan  decoys,  though  I  have 


POINT   SHOOTING.  415 

seen,  on  the  sloops  of  one  or  two  professionals,  a  great 
pile  of  these;  for  the  swan  will  decoy  readily,  coming 
either  to  swan  decoys  or  to  the  call  alone.  I  remember 
once  tying  out  at  a  point  in  a  bay  from  which  we  put 
out  great  flocks  of  swans  and  geese,  and  an  hour  or  two 
later  a  single  swan  was  seen  flying  toward  the  bay. 
My  boatman  called  to  it,  wdiile  I  tried  to  change  the 
duck  cartridges  which  were  in  the  gun  for  those  loaded 
with  buckshot,  which  were  lying  ready  for  just  such 
an  emergency.  Alas  for  the  chance!  The  day  was 
rainy,  the  chambers  of  my  gun  a  little  foul  from  smoke, 
and  the  cartridges  had  swollen.  It  took  me  a  long  time 
to  get  out  the  ones  that  were  in  and  a  long  time  to 
insert  the  others  in  the  chamber.  While  I  was  wretch- 
edly working  at  this  I  was  reduced  to  the  last  pitch  of 
nervousness  by  the  boatman,  who  punctuated  his  calls 
to  the  swan  by  remarks  such  as  these:  ''Here  he 
comes!"  ''He's  heading  right  for  us!"  "Be  ready 
now,  he's  almost  near  enough !"  "Now  he's  right  over 
the  decoys ;  get  up  and  kill  him !"  "Oh,  shoot,  shoot !" 
"There  he  goes !"  "He's  gone !"  There  was  a  pause, 
during  which  I  managed  to  shove  first  one  and  then 
the  other  cartridge  into  the  gun ;  but  before  I  had  closed 
it  the  boatman  whispered  excitedly :  "Here  he  comes  : 
back  again,  right  over  the  decoys !"  Closing  the  gun,  I 
stood  up  and  killed  the  great  bird  just  beyond  my 
furthest  decoys. 

"Oh!"  cried  the  boatman,  as  he  ran  to  the  skiff  to 
get  the  bird,  "that's  wuth  a  dollar — a  dollar,  sir." 

Sometimes  swans  do  curious  things.    Once  watching 


4l6  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

a  wedge  of  seven  birds  that  flew  over,  200  or  300  yards 
distant,  and  that  were  slowly  lowering  themselves 
toward  the  waters  of  the  sound,  I  saw  one  bird  help 
himself  along  by  means  of  another.  The  last  swan  on 
one  arm  of  the  V  seemed  higher  than  the  others,  which 
were  close  in  front  of  him,  and  with  a  quick  stroke  or 
two  he  overtook  the  bird  immediately  before  him, 
caught  his  tail  feathers  in  his  bill,  and,  bending  his 
neck,  pulled  his  own  breast  close  to  the  tail  of  the  other 
bird,  whose  progress  seemed  absolutely  stopped.  Then 
the  last  bird  let  go  the  tail  and  they  all  went  on.  It 
looked  as  if  the  last  bird  had  used  the  other  to  pull  him- 
self down  to  its  level,  being  himself  too  impatient  to 
wait  for  the  slower  descent  of  flight.  The  occurrence 
seemed  to  me  to  be  a  remarkable  one,  and  called  up  to 
my  mind  the  old  story  of  little  birds  crossing  the  Medi- 
terranean on  the  backs  of  owls,  geese  and  cranes,  and 
the  story,  related  years  ago  in  Forest  and  Stream  by 
Dr.  J.  C.  Merrill,  of  the  "Crane's  Back"  of  the  Crow 
Indians. 

All  day  long  the  gray  clouds  have  hung  low  over  the 
waters,  and  occasionally  the  sad  heavens  have  dropped 
down  their  rains,  which  the  winds  have  thrown  spite- 
fully against  us.  Now,  however,  just  at  the  close  of 
the  day,  the  broad  orb  of  the  sun  looks  out  at  us  from 
the  western  sky  just  as  it  is  falling  below  the  horizon. 
Slowly  it  sinks  until  only  a  thin  red  line  is  visible  above 
the  low,  distant  forest  which  bounds  the  view  to  the 
west.  I  take  a  last,  long  look  about  me  to  see  if  perhaps 
a  duck  will  come  before  the  sun  has  actually  set;  but, 


POINT   SHOOTING.  4.17 

seeing  no  bird,  I  break  down  my  gun  and  say  to  John, 
"Take  up." 

As  he  crashes  through  the  cane  to  get  the  skiff,  I 
unload  both  guns  and  put  them  in  their  covers,  close 
ammunition  box,  and  begin  to  carry  the  things  down  to 
the  edge  of  the  marsh.  John  is  already  among  the 
decoys,  taking  up  first  the  live  ducks — which  he  puts 
in  their  coop — and  then  the  wooden  ones,  which  he 
stacks  neatly  in  their  places.  Then,  when  he  pushes 
the  boat  to  the  marsh,  I  pass  him  the  things  from  the 
shore,  handing  him  last  of  all  the  ducks,  which  he  packs 
away  on  and  abaft  the  decoys,  counting  them  as  he  lays 
them  down:  'Twenty-seven,  twenty-eight,  twenty- 
nine,  thirty,  and  the  hairy  crown's  thirty-one,  A  pretty 
good  day's  work,  sir!" 

I  put  on  my  heavy  coat  and  step  in  the  skiff,  and 
while  I  light  my  pipe,  John  pushes  the  boat  through  the 
shallow  water,  and  presently  steps  the  mast  and  sets 
the  sail,  and  with  a  merry  ripple  the  little  boat  bears  us 
homeward. 

"Well,  John,  it's  my  last  day,  and  it  has  been  a  good 
one.    I  am  sorry  to  go." 

"I  wish  you  could  stay  longer,  sir;  but  anyhow 
you've  had  some  good  shooting,  and  you  certainly  have 
done  right  well — better'n  I  thought  you  could  that  first 
day." 

And  so  I  have. 


4l8  DUCK    SHOOTING. 


SEA  SHOOTING  ON  THE  ATLANTIC. 

Along  the  coasts  of  Maine,  Massachusetts,  Rhode 
Island  and  Connecticut  great  hordes  of  wildfowl  gath- 
er each  winter,  driven  from  the  North  by  the  ice  which 
blocks  their  feeding  grounds.  For  the  most  part  these 
birds  are  sea-ducks  of  different  sorts,  and  feeding,  as 
the}^  do,  largely  on  the  shell-fish  which  they  bring  up 
from  the  bottom,  they  are  not  highly  esteemed  as  food. 
Nevertheless,  the  dwellers  along  the  seashore  eat  them 
and  think  them  good,  although  in  taste  and  appearance 
they  are  very  different  from  the  birds  that  live  chiefly 
on  the  fresh  water,  whose  food  is  largely  vegetable. 

These  birds  are  chiefly  the  three  scoters — the  black 
scoter,  the  white-winged  scoter  and  the  skunk-head — 
old-squaw,  or  long-tailed  duck,  eider  ducks,  in  varying 
numbers,  with  a  few  whistlers  or  golden-eyes,  and  oc- 
casionally a  few  harlequins.  When  not  feeding,  these 
birds  commonly  rest  well  out  to  sea,  but  in  the  morning 
and  at  the  approach  of  evening  they  usually  fly  into  the 
bays,  where  the  water  is  more  shallow,  to  feed  on  the 
clams  and  winkles,  which  they  procure  by  diving. 

The  large  beds  of  ducks  break  up  at  dawn,  and  the 
birds  fly  by  little  companies,  continuing  to  move  about 
until  ten  or  eleven  o'clock,  when  they  settle  down  and 
do  not  fly  again  until  evening.  At  many  points  along 
this  coast,  ducking  in  line  is  practiced,  a  form  of  sport 
not  known  elsewhere,  we  believe.  In  this,  besides  his 
gun  and  ammunition,  the  gunner  requires  a  flat-bot- 


SEA   SHOOTING   ON   THE   ATLANTIC.         419 

tomed  skiff,  twelve  or  thirteen  feet  long,  decked  over, 
v^ith  a  combing  about  the  cockpit,  which  is  large  enough 
to  hold  one,  or  at  most,  two  persons,  and  an  anchor 
rope,  long  enough  to  enable  the  boat  to  ride  freely,  and 
with  the  anchor  at  one  end  and  at  the  other  a  buoy,  with 
an  eye  fastened  into  it,  and  a  light  painter  ten  or  twelve 
feet  long,  which  has  a  snap  at  the  free  extremity.  Be- 
side this,  fastened  to  the  snap  is  a  light  line,  a  little 
longer  than  the  painter  and  the  distance  from  the  bow 
where  the  painter  is  fastened  to  the  cockpit.  This  line 
is  made  fast  to  the  boat,  just  within  the  cockpit,  and 
runs  to  the  snap  on  the  painter,  to  which  also  it  is  made 
fast.  Thus,  when  the  anchor  is  out  and  the  painter 
snapped  to  the  eye  in  the  buoy,  this  last  can  be 
brought  alongside  by  pulling  on  the  light  line.  The 
painter  can  then  be  unsnapped,  the  boat  freed  and  the 
buoy  left  floating  on  the  water.  This  not  only  saves  the 
trouble  of  lifting  the  anchor  at  frequent  intervals,  but 
the  buoy  left  in  place  holds  the  gunner's  position  in  the 
line,  which  nobody  will  attempt  to  occupy. 

Ducking  in  line  is  a  communal  form  of  sport.  The 
gunners  of  a  locality  agree  all  to  go  out  on  a  certain  day, 
and  unless  fifteen  or  twenty  boats  go,  it  is  useless  to 
make  the  start.  The  boats  range  themselves  in  a  line 
off  shore,  from  some  headland  or  point  which  sep- 
arates two  bays  in  which  the  ducks  commonly  feed. 
The  first  boat  is  placed  two  or  three  hundred  yards 
from  the  shore,  the  next  one  a  hundred  yards  outside 
of  that,  the  next  still  further  out,  until  the  twenty  boats, 
extending  out  from  the  point,  make  a  cordon  of  gun- 


420  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ners,  extending  out  to  sea  nearly  a  mile  from  the  point. 
Usually  lots  are  drawn  for  position,  those  nearest  the 
shore  not  being  so  desirable  as  those  farther  out.  An 
effort  is  made  to  be  on  the  ground  before  daylight,  as 
the  shooting  begins  with  the  earliest  dawn.  Often, 
therefore,  the  gunners  are  obliged  to  rise  at  two  or 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  to  make  their  way  to  the 
shore,  get  into  their  boats  and  perhaps  pull  a  distance 
of  three  or  four  miles  before  reaching  the  ground.  At 
other  times  all  of  them  will  congregate  in  some  barn 
near  the  starting  point  and  sleep  there,  and  the  start 
will  be  made  by  all  together. 

■  Warm,  pleasant  weather  is  desirable  for  this  sport, 
although  it  is  true  that  the  birds  fly  best  and  afford  the 
easiest  shooting  when  the  wind  blows  hard  and  the 
weather  is  rough  and  boisterous.  But  it  is  often  no 
joke  to  pull  one  of  these  little  flat-bottomed  skiffs  three 
or  four  miles  through  the  darkness  against  a  head  wind 
and  through  a  rough  sea,  and  even  after  the  gunner  is 
anchored,  if  the  wind  blows  hard,  the  work  is  wet  and 
uncomfortable,  and  the  reports  of  the  guns  are  punctu- 
ated by  the  angry  slapping  of  the  skiffs  upon  the  water, 
as  they  rise  and  fall  with  the  sea.  Even  if  the  water  is 
calm  it  may  be  bitterly  cold,  and  ice  may  be  making 
along  the  edges  of  the  bay,  so  that  after  the  gunner  has 
reached  his  stand,  and  thrown  over  his  anchor,  and  the 
labor  of  rowing  is  at  an  end,  he  soon  chills,  slaps  his 
arms  vigorously  and  dances  jigs  on  the  ice  in  the  bot- 
tom of  his  boat.  After  one  has  reached  his  position 
and  thrown  over  his  anchor,  it  is  interesting  to  listen  to 


SEA   SHOOTING  ON   THE   ATLANTIC,         42 1 

the  movements  of  the  other  boats :  the  regular  sound  of 
the  oars,  the  heavy  plunge  of  the  anchor  as  it  is  tossed 
out,  the  impatient  exclamation  of  some  neighbor  who 
has  suffered  misadventure,  the  loud  laughter  of  another 
who  is  conversing  with  a  companion. 

As  the  first  light  appears  in  the  east  the  whistling  of 
wings  begins  to  be  heard ;  perhaps  the  plaintive  cry  of  a 
loon  comes  floating  through  the  twilight,  or  the  distant 
calling  of  a  black  duck,  feeding  in  the  marsh.  Pres- 
ently, from  near  the  shore,  a  gun  is  heard,  followed  by 
the  high-pitched  laugh  of  a  loon,  which,  in  the  darkness, 
has  flown  close  up  to  the  boats,  and  being  shot  at,  flies 
down  along  the  line,  looking  for  an  opening.  As  his 
shadowy  form  is  discerned  in  the  dusk  of  the  morning, 
each  gunner  hurls  after  him  an  ounce  of  lead,  but,  un- 
touched, he  passes  on,  and  finally  is  lost  in  the  gray 
mists  of  the  distance.  At  the  report  of  the  guns,  far 
out  over  the  water  is  heard  the  faint  whistling  of  many 
wings,  and  with  them  comes  the  melodious  honking  of 
gangs  of  geese,  passing  high  overhead.  The  sky 
grows  brighter  and  brighter,  more  gunshots  are  heard, 
and  presently  the  sun  rises. 

Now,  as  one  looks  seaward,  great  bunches  of  birds 
can  be  seen  rising  from  the  water,  and  these  breakinc 
up  into  small  flocks,  fly  in  all  directions.  Perhaps  the 
first  to  approach  the  line  will  be  a  bunch  of  great  coots, 
some  of  them  white-winged,  others  dead  black  and  still 
others  gray.  They  fly  swiftly  and  steadily,  and  come 
nearer  and  nearer,  until  they  have  almost  reached  the 
line  of  boats,  and  then,  noticing  them — seemingly  for 


422  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  first  time — they  try  to  check  themselves ;  but  it  is 
too  late  to  turn,  and  with  swift  and  steady  flight,  at 
wonderful  speed,  they  fly  on,  passing  between  two  of 
the  boats,  and  twenty  or  thirty  feet  above  the  water. 
In  each  boat  a  man  springs  to  his  knees,  follows  the 
swift  course  of  the  birds  for  an  instant  with  his  gun, 
there  are  four  reports,  and  three  of  the  birds  turn  heels 
over  head,  falling  to  the  water,  while  two  more  slant 
downward,  striking  the  surface  with  heavy  splashes, 
one  near  and  one  much  further  off.  The  two  gunners 
draw  their  buoys  to  the  side  of  the  boats,  unsnap  the 
painters,  and,  shipping  their  oars,  row  off  to  recover 
the  dead,  and  when  this  is  done,  return  to  their  place  in 
the  line.  Many  of  the  birds,  as  they  strike  the  water, 
dive  at  once,  and  coming  up  a  long  way  off,  repeat  their 
diving,  swimming  so  fast  and  so  far  that  they  are  not 
pursued.  Others  which  dive  are  not  seen  to  come  up 
at  all ;  these  are  believed  to  go  to  the  bottom,  and  there 
to  cling  to  the  weeds  until  dead.  Others,  still,  perhaps 
too  hard  hit  even  to  dive,  skulk  off,  with  the  body 
completely  submerged,  and  nothing  but  the  bill  ex- 
posed above  the  water.  If  there  is  a  little  ripple,  or 
still  more  if  there  is  a  sea  on,  it  is  hardly  visible. 

The  first  shooting  of  the  season  is  almost  entirely 
at  coots  (Oidemia),  which  are  the  earliest  of  the  sea 
ducks  to  arrive  off  the  coast.  Somewhat  later,  as  the 
weather  grows  colder,  the  old-squaws,  or  long-tailed 
ducks,  make  their  appearance,  and  their  coming  adds 
interest  to  the  sport.  They  fly  with  great  swiftness, 
and  very  irregularly,  and  their  long  tails  and  dodging 


SEA   SHOOTING   ON   THE   ATLANTIC.         423 

flight  remind  one  of  the  movements  of  the  passenger 
pigeon,  while  their  continued  and  pecuHar  cry,  owl- 
owl-ozvly,  is  a  pleasing  sound  as  it  ripples  musically 
across  the  water. 

As  the  morning  proceeds  and  the  birds  fly  across 
different  parts  of  the  line,  there  is  continued  interest 
and  excitement.  Men  are  looking  in  all  directions  for 
birds,  and  such  cries  as,  "All  solid  to  the  east'rd,"  'To 
the  south'rd,"  "All  down,"  and  other  warning  cries,  are 
constantly  passed  from  boat  to  boat,  as  the  birds  are 
seen  coming  from  the  different  directions. 

Often  a  bunch  of  birds  will  come  quite  close  to  the 
line,  and  then,  alarmed  by  some  movement,  will  whirl 
off  and  away,  only  to  return  and  try  to  cross  at  some 
other  point.  Sometimes  they  may  separate,  and  en- 
deavor to  pass  in  two  or  three  small  bunches,  and  then 
the  shooting  is  like  that  of  a  skirmish  line,  as  every  one 
within  reach,  and  some  who  are  beyond  it,  shoot  at  the 
birds.  The  interest  is  kept  up  all  through  the  morn- 
ing, and  many  birds  fall.  Most  of  them,  probably,  will 
be  coots  or  old-squaws,  but  there  may  be  a  few  broad- 
bills,  perhaps  a  black  duck  or  two,  some  whistlers  and 
loons,  and  perhaps  a  crow,  shot  wantonly  by  some 
man  who  knew  no  better.  So  the  sport  proceeds,  and 
the  hours  glide  by,  until,  when  the  village  spire  sends 
its  music  quivering  across  the  bay,  telling  the  hour  of 
eleven,  anchor  is  weighed,  and  all  the  boats  start  for 
the  shore. 

In  the  dead  of  winter,  when  the  cold  is  bitter,  and 
the  shores  are  piled  with  ice,  so  that  the  boats  can 


424  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

hardly  be  launched,  ducking  in  line  is  not  practiced, 
but  when  spring  comes,  and  the  milder  days  of  March 
and  April  are  at  hand,  it  is  often  resumed.  At  this 
time,  however,  the  birds  are  mated,  or  are  seeking 
mates,  and  many  of  them  are  shot  over  decoys.  Old- 
squaws  and  coots,  alike,  come  up  to  decoys  well  at  this 
season,  and  seem  to  pay  little  regard  to  the  boat  which 
is  anchored  out'  on  the  feeding  ground,  of  course  in 
perfectly  plain  sight. 

The  gunner  rows  out  to  the  place  where  he  has  ob- 
served the  birds  to  be  feeding,  and  throwing  out  his 
decoys,  anchors  his  boat  not  more  than  twenty-five 
yards  from  them,  and  then,  getting  down  in  the  bot- 
tom, remains  there  out  of  sight.  Perhaps  the  birds 
imagine  the  boat,  which  is  usually  painted  white,  to  be 
one  of  the  pieces  of  the  ice  that  was  so  lately  floating 
around  in  the  bay;  but,  at  all  events,  they  come  up 
readily  to  decoys,  and  often  afford  good  shooting.  By 
this  time  many  of  the  old-squaws  have  assumed  their 
summer  plumage,  and  beautiful  birds  they  are  as  they 
rest  lightly  on  the  water,  and  with  tail  held  upward 
at  an  angle,  and  lowered  head  and  thickened  neck,  pur- 
sue their  mates.  At  this  season  rarely,  when  the 
weather  is  foggy,  there  will  come  to  such  a  gunner  an 
occasional  opportunity  for  a  shot  at  a  flock  of  migrat- 
ing geese,  confused  by  the  fog,  and  flying  low  over  the 
water.  This  is  regarded  as  great  luck,  for  what  the 
grizzly  bear  is  to  the  big  game  hunter  of  the  West,  the 
great  gray  goose  is  to  the  gunner  on  the  New  England 
shore. 


SEA    SHOOTING   ON   THE  ATLANTIC.         425 

On  the  Maine  coast,  at  the  mouth  of  some  of  the 
rivers,  as,  for  example,  near  the  quaint  old  seaport 
town  of  Kennebunkport,  there  is  fair  coot  and  sea-duck 
shooting  over  decoys.  These  are  anchored  between 
the  grounds  where  the  birds  pass  the  night  and  their 
feeding  places  nearer  to  the  shore.  No  attempt  is 
made  at  concealing  the  boat,  though  the  gunners  keep 
themselves  out  of  sight  as  well  as  possible.  The  de- 
coys should  be  out  by  daylight,  for,  before  the  sun 
rises,  the  birds  are  on  the  move,  and  a  long  dark  line  to 
the  eastw^ard  will  be  seen,  the  birds  flying  toward  the 
shore.  In  such  places  as  this  a  few  eider  ducks — 
called  sea  ducks  on  this  coast — are  likely  to  be  killed, 
and  rarely  among  them  will  be  found  a  king  eider. 
Now^  and  then  a  little  bunch  of  harlequin  may  fly  with- 
in gun-shot,  and  perhaps  one  or  two  of  them  will  be 
knocked  down,  but  unless  they  are  quite  dead  they  are 
not  likely  to  be  recovered,  for  ihey  are  most  expert  at 
diving  and  skulking. 

In  all  this  sea  shooting  the  bag  is  likely  to  be  a 
mixed  one,  and  to  contain  everything,  from  grebe  and 
loon  up  through  old-squaw%  coot,  eider  and  broad-bill 
to  black  duck  or  goose.  Those  who  practice  it  are  out 
for  shooting,  and  shooting  they  will  have,  no  matter 
at  what  it  may  be. 

At  certain  points  along  the  rocky  New  England 
coast  the  bays,  sounds  and  harbors  are  dotted  with 
little  islets  surrounded  by  deep  w^ater.  Often  the  feed- 
ing grounds  of  the  coots,  old-squaws  and  broad-bills 
are  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  such  islands,  and 


4^6  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

where  this  is  the  case,  point  shooting  is  not  infrequently 
had.  The  decoys  are  put  into  the  water  in  the  usual 
way,  but  often  their  anchor  strings  have  to  be  very  long 
to  reach  the  bottom.  The  gunners  conceal  themselves 
among  the  rocks  on  the  shore. 

Early  in  the  season,  when  the  birds  are  gentle,  or 
again  in  spring,  when  they  are  more  sociably  inclined, 
fair  shooting  can  occasionally  be  had  in  this  way,  but 
after  it  has  been  practiced  for  a  little  while,  ducks  avoid 
the  shore  and  rarely  come  up  within  shooting  distance. 
The  birds  commonly  secured  by  this  method  are  the 
scoter  and  the  long-tailed  duck,  though  occasionally 
broad-bills  come  to  the  decoys,  and  more  rarely  differ- 
ent species  of  fresh-water  ducks. 

A  method  of  approach  which  can  often  be  practiced 
on  diving  birds  is  worth  knowing.  We  have  seen  it 
used  successfully  on  whistlers  and  sheldrakes,  and  on 
one  or  two  occasions  on  old-squaws,  which  at  high 
water  happened  to  be  feeding  near  the  marsh.  Usually 
it  can  be  practiced  only  where  the  birds  are  single  or 
at  least  very  few  in  number,  so  that  occasionally  all  are 
under  water  at  the  same  time. 

When  the.  bird  dives,  the  gunner  runs  toward  it  as 
rapidly  as  possible,  stopping  before  it  comes  to  the 
surface  and  standing  perfectly  still  until  the  bird  dives 
again.  Usually  it  takes  a  fraction  of  a  second — time 
enough  for  a  man  to  halt — before  the  bird  gets  the 
water  out  of  its  eyes  and  sees  clearly,- and  this  gives  the 
gunner  the  opportunity  to  stand  quiet  before  he  is  seen 
by  the  bird.     Usually  the  bird  does  not  notice  the  man 


SEA   SHOOTING   ON   THE   ATLANTIC.         427 

unless  he  makes  some  motion,  but  will  dive  again. 
When  there  are  a  number  of  the  fowl  which  are  con- 
tinually going  down  and  coming  up  at  different  times 
and  in  different  places  in  the  neighborhood,  it  is  almost 
hopeless  to  attempt  this  means  of  approach,  for  some 
one  of  them  is  quite  sure  to  detect  the  gunner. 

Sea  shooting,  as  practiced  along  the  north  Atlantic 
coast,  is  everywhere  much  the  same.  The  following 
account  describes  it  on  the  New  Jersey  coast : 

To  the  east  the  first  rays  of  daylight  were  beginning 
to  show  themselves  and  dye  the  ocean  a  dark  purple,  in- 
terspersed with  bars  of  light,  that  under  the  gentle  west 
wind  looked  like  beaten  copper.  In  the  distance  shone 
the  beacon  of  the  Scotland  Lightship,  and  further  west 
on  the  Navesink  hills  the  Highland  lights  were  begin- 
ning to  pale  in  the  coming  day.  Down  in  the  north- 
east a  schooner  could  dimly  be  made  out,  standing  with 
all  sail  set  toward  Sandy  Hook.  To  the  south  the 
water  was  cold  and  leaden,  while  in-shore  it  was  break- 
ing into  ripples,  and  the  western  horizon  looked  as  if  it 
had  plenty  of  wind  in  store,  and  would  shortly  prove 
the  fact  to  us.  Around  us  on  all  sides  could  be  made 
out  a  dozen  or  more  boats  riding  at  anchor,  and  to  keen 
eyes  each  had  its  string  of  decoys  aboard.  While  I 
was  enjoying  the  picture  and  watching  the  day  break, 
half  forgetting  the  purpose  for  which  I  had  come,  I 
was  startled  by  hearing  C.  say,  "Mark  southeast." 
This  dispelled  all  dreaming,  and  turning  my  eyes,  I 
made  out  a  single  bird  rapidly  approaching  the  nearest 


428  DUCK,    SHOOTING. 

boat  to  the  south  of  us.  On  he  came,  his  dusky  wings 
seeming  but  barely  to  clear  the  ripples,  heading  a  little 
to  the  south  of  our  neighbor.  Then,  as  if  seeing  the 
decoys  for  the  first  time,  he  swung  swiftly  in  toward 
them  and  prepared  to  pitch.  A  flash,  a  dull  boom  of  a 
heavily-loaded  gun,  a  streak  of  white  water  under  him, 
and  a  cloud  of  smoke  rising  from  the  innocent-looking 
fishing-boat,  seemed  to  have  convinced  him  that  he  had 
made  a  mistake  and  a  narrow  escape,  and  had  better 
change  his  quarters,  which  he  did  in  spite  of  the  second 
invitation  sent  after  him.  Straight  in-shore  the  bird 
went,  and  in  his  haste  and  fright,  miscalculating  the 
danger  distance  from  the  in-shore  boat,  went  down 
with  a  rush  and  splash  before  a  charge  of  No.  2  sent 
at  him. 

"Look  out,  here  comes  one  straight  for  you;  and 
don't  you  miss  the  first  bird  for  anything."  ''Where 
is  he?  Oh,  I  see  him!"  Yes,  there  he  came,  swift 
and  straight  as  an  arrow,  for  our  stools.  Stooping 
low,  to  be  as  much  out  of  sight  as  possible,  I  drew  back 
the  hammers  of  my  little  gun,  determined  to  make 
3^  drams  of  powder  and  an  ounce  of  No.  4  do  all  they 
could  to  stop  this  visitor.  In  an  instant  he  was  over 
the  furthest  stool.  Now  steady,  was  the  mental  com- 
mand to  my  nerves,  as  the  gun  came  to  shoulder,  and 
eye  ranged  down  the  barrels  showed  them  to  be  about 
a  foot  ahead.  Ah !  now,  then !  And  there  was  instant- 
ly a  transformation  scene,  with  a  bunch  of  feathers  and 
a  badly  demoralized  duck  as  the  central  figure ;  a  splash 
in  the  water  and  a  sigh  of  relief  from  C,  whose  ''All 


SEA   SHOOTING   ON   THE   ATLANTIC.         429 

right !"  convinced  me  that  the  gun  and  myself  had  done 
our  work  well  this  time,  at  least. 

During  this  little  by-play  of  our  own,  the  other  boats 
had  not  been  idle,  as  dull,  muffled  reports  from  all  di- 
rections proved,  and  that  they  were  meeting  with  more 
or  less  success  the  moving  and  anchored  boats  plainly 
showed.  For  an  hour  or  so  this  continued.  Then  all 
of  the  birds  seeming  to  have  found  a  resting  place  fur- 
ther out  at  sea,  where  they  were  only  occasionally  dis- 
turbed by  passing  vessels,  and,  as  a  consequence,  not 
giving  the  shooting  that  our  neighbors  seemed  to  think 
they  should,  a  general  movement  for  the  new  resting 
place  of  the  ducks  commenced.  Our  host  called  to  us 
as  he  passed  ''to  come  out-shore,"  an  invitation  we 
hesitated  about  accepting,  as  the  wind  had  increased, 
and  the  gentle  ripple  of  the  morning  had  given  place 
to  a  decided  sea,  which  certainly  must  be  much  larger 
off  shore.  However,  after  talking  the  matter  over,  we 
decided  to  follow,  and  getting  in  our  decoys,  com- 
menced going  out-shore.  Our  delay  had  given  the 
other  boats  a  long  start,  and  before  we  got  half  way 
out  they  were  among  the  birds,  of  which  there  seemed 
to  be  thousands.  Looking  over  my  shoulder,  I  could 
see  tthem  flying  in  all  directions,  some  scooting  close 
along  the  water,  barely  clearing  the  seas,  others  high 
overhead,  flying  in  a  heedless  fashion  from  one  boat  to 
another,  or  hesitating  a  moment  over  a  bunch  of  stools, 
and  paying  for  their  curiosity  by  the  loss  of  some  of 
their  number. 

For  an  hour  or  more  the  shooting  continued,  bring- 


430  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ing  us  our  share  of  birds,  and  at  the  same  time  a  fair 
share  of  misses,  some  of  which  brought  with  them 
the  plainly  expressed  disapproval  of  my  companion. 
The  wind  having  increased,  and  the  sea  making 
shooting  almost  impossible,  w^e  boated  our  decoys  and 
commenced  our  journey  shoreward,  which  interesting 
point  was  at  least  two  miles  away  in  the  teeth  of  the 
wind.  An  hour's  hard  work  at  the  oars,  sometimes 
only  holding  our  own  against  the  fierce  flaws,  which 
ever  and  anon,  as  if  to  show  their  power,  would  drive 
the  spray  clean  over  the  boat ;  and  again,  as  the  force  of 
the  flaw  passed,  gaining  a  few  yards,  we  finally  reached 
the  bar.  Here,  taking  advantage  of  the  first  oppor- 
tunity that  the  surf  offered,  we  ran  through  it,  and  once 
more  had  Jersey  soil  under  our  feet. 


WADING  THE  MARSHES. 

At  various  points  all  over  the  land — in  the  marshes 
of  the  seaboard,  of  the  Middle  States,  of  Illinois,  of 
the  high  central  plateau,  and  of  California — is  prac- 
ticed what  is  perhaps  the  most  primitive  form  of  duck 
shooting.  Where  such  marshes  are  wet,  and  yet  have 
a  hard  bottom,  the  gunners  wade  through  them,  start- 
ling the  ducks  from  their  moist  feedmg  places  and 
shooting  at  them  as  they  top  the  reeds  in  their  flight. 
The  gunning  is  thus  very  much  like  walking  up  birds  on 
a  stubble,  or  snipe  on  a  wet  meadow,  but  it  is  extremely 


WADING   THE  MARSHES.  43 1 

laborious,  for  often  the  wading  is  deep,  and  from  time 
to  time  one  steps  into  a  muskrat  hole,  in  which  he  may 
sink  up  to  his  waist,  or  even  deeper.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  rewards  of  this  toil  may  be  great,  since,  as  it 
is  practiced  chiefly  early  in  the  season,  the  birds  are 
likely  to  be  numerous  and  many  of  them  so  tame  and 
unsuspicious  that  sometimes  they  do  not  spring  from 
the  water  until  the  gunner  is  within  a  few  feet  of  them. 

In  work  such  as  this  a  good  dog  is  almost  indispensa- 
ble. Unless  one  has  had  great  practice,  the  marking 
down  of  a  bird  in  the  grass  or  reeds  is  difficult,  even  if 
it  falls  close  to  one,  while  if  a  wounded  bird  scales 
down  a  long  way  off,  it  is  practically  impossible  for  the 
gunner  to  go  to  the  place  and  find  the  game.  The  dog 
should  be  well  broken  and  should  follow  at  heel,  going 
forward  only  at  command  and  obeying  the  gestures  of 
the  liand.  If  he  is  so  trained  he  will  save  his  master 
many  weary  steps  and  will  greatly  increase  the  weight 
of  the  bag.  In  no  situation  is  a  good  dog  more  useful 
than  when  one  is  wading  the  marsh. 

While  this  form  of  shooting  is  practiced  much  more 
in  wet  countries  than  in  dry,  it  is  followed  also  with 
very  good  results  at  certain  places  in  the  sage  deserts 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  In  that  country,  water  is 
likely  to  be  scarce,  and  wherever  there  is  a  lake  with  an 
adjoining  marsh,  there  the  ducks,  grebes,  coots,  and 
other  water  birds,  gather  in  great  numbers  to  breed; 
while  added  numbers  stop  during  the  migrations. 

Many  years  ago  a  little  party  of  three  or  four  men 
had  occasion  to  spend  some  weeks  in  the  neighborhood 


432  .  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

of  such  a  spot  m  Albany  County,  Wyoming,  and  dur- 
ing that  time  their  fresh  meat  supply  was  drawn  alto- 
gether from  the  ducks  that  lived  by  the  marsh. 

The  breeding  season  was  over,  but  the  ducks  were 
not  yet  preparing  to  make  their  flight  southward.  They 
had  nothing  to  do  now  but  all  day  long  to  dabble  and 
rest  in  the  marsh,  and  accumulate  strength  and  fat  for 
the  long  journey  that  must  soon  be  made. 

Every  morning,  or  every  afternoon,  for  a  couple  of 
hours,  two  of  the  men  would  start  out  to  kill  a  few 
ducks  for  the  next  day's  meals.  The  weather  was 
warm,  and  they  did  not  attempt  to  keep  dry,  but,  clad 
in  woolen  shirts,  overalls  and  shoes,  they  entered  the 
marsh,  and  usually  by  the  time  they  had  walked  its 
length  once  they  had  as  many  birds  as  could  be  used 
during  the  next  day.  The  great  black  Newfoundland 
dog  that  belonged  to  the  telegraph  operator  at  the 
neighboring  railroad  station  was  a  most  useful  helper 
to  them,  and  brought  many  of  their  ducks,  but  at  times 
his  excitement  got  the  better  of  him,  and  he  would 
range  the  marsh  far  and  wide,  scaring  up  the  ducks 
everywhere,  and  entirely  regardless  of  the  remarks 
made  by  the  gunners,  although  these  remarks  were 
made  in  loud  tones  and  were  frequently  repeated.  It 
v/as  amusing  then  to  see  the  gunners  come  out  of  the 
marsh  and  provide  themselves  with  clubs  with  which 
to  punish  Bingo,  and  then  to  see  Bingo,  perfectly  con- 
scious of  his  guilt,  and  quite  unwilling  to  endure  the 
punishment,  sit  down  on  the  prairie  a  hundred  yards 
off  and  utterly  refuse  to  come  any  nearer.     Often  it 


BATTERY    SHOOTING.  433 

was  the  next  day  before  he  would  venture  within  arm's 
length  of  either  of  the  gunners. 

In  this  marsh  were  found  many  sorts  of  ducks.  Mal- 
lards were  perhaps  the  most  numerous,  and  next  after 
these  came  the  red-breasted  teal.  Pintails,  shovellers, 
redheads  and  greenwings  were  common,  and  later  in 
the  season  geese  were  often  killed.  The  gadwall  was 
not  a  common  bird. 

On  certain  marshes  in  New  York  State,  and  no  doubt 
elsewhere,  when  the  water  is  high,  marsh  shooting 
similar  to  this  is  practiced  with  a  boat,  which  is  shoved 
through  the  grass  and  the  weeds  precisely  as  the  skiff 
of  the  rail-shooter  is  shoved  through  the  corngrass  or 
wild  rice.  In  bygone  years  we  have  seen  good  bags  of 
ducks  made  in  just  this  w^ay,  the  gunner  standing  in 
the  bow  while  the  shover  moves  the  boat  forward 
quietly  through  the  rustling  grass. 

This  work  of  wading  the  marshes  is  better  practiced 
only  in  mild  weather,  since  it  is  practically  impossible 
to  keep  dry  while  doing  it 


BATTERY  SHOOTING. 

The  battery  Is  usually  set  out — ''rigged"  is  the  com- 
mon term — in  shoal  water,  from  three  to  six  feet  in 
most  places,  although  sometimes  in  the  South  they  are 
put  out  in  much  deeper  water.  When  this  is  done, 
however,  the  wind  may  make  trouble  for  the  gunner. 


434  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

for  a  battery  cannot  live  in  anything  like  a  sea.  In 
places  like  Great  South  Bay,  however,  where  there 
may  be  two  or  three  feet  of  grass  on  the  bottom,  and 
then  two  feet  of  water  over  that,  a  battery  can  live  in 
what  is  commonly  known  as  a  two-reef  breeze.  This 
is  a  famous  place  for  battery  shooting,  and  here  the 
decoys  are  commonly  set  on  the  water  somewhat  in 
the  shape  of  a  pear. 

The  battery  lies  near  the  larger  end  of  this  pear,  and 
to  the  right-hand  side  looking  toward  its  smaller  end. 
As  a  result  of  this  mode  of  rigging — the  gunner's  head 
being  to  windward  and  the  stand  of  decoys  being  wid- 
est where  he  is,  and  tapering  off  to  a  point  to  leeward — 
the  birds,  as  they  come  up,  will  swing  to  where  the  de- 
coys are  thickest  on  the  water;  that  is,  to  the  left  of 
the  gunner,  and  will  thus  always  give  him  an  oppor- 
tunity to  shoot  to  the  left.  Most  men  shoot  from  the 
right  shoulder,  and,  of  course,  this  arrangement  gives 
them  the  best  possible  chance.  A  man  who  shoots  from 
the  left  shoulder  will  naturally  have  his  battery  on  the 
left-hand  side  of  the  pear,  so  that  the  birds  would  come 
up  to  the  right,  to  give  him  a  better  opportunity  at 
them. 

Usually  in  the  Great  South  Bay  they  use  about  125 
decoys  to  a  single  battery,  and  perhaps  150  or  more  to 
a  double  battery.  Of  these,  twenty-five  or  more  are 
brant  decoys,  and  these  are  distributed  close  about  the 
battery,  so  that  their  larger  bodies  may  in  a  measure 
conceal  it  from  the  flying  birds.  There  is  a  single  row 
of  the  brant  decoys  all  about  the  battery,  perhaps  seven 


o 
0       o 
0       ^ 


o    o 


o      o      0 


o        Q 


o  ^  ^      0    0 


o  0 

o 


o     o      ^    o      '^      ^      O 


0 

0  0 

0  I  0   0 


oMo 
o"— 'o 


o    o       o      o     o 
o  o         o         o 


0 

o 

o  0  0 

o  0    0         o 


oj^oo  0 


0 
0     ^ 


THE  BATTERY  RIGGED. 


SWIVEL    GUNS    FROM    SPESUTIA    ISLAND. 


BATTERY    SHOOTING.  435 

or  eight  on  either  side,  and  four  or  five  at  either  end. 
The  decoys  tail  down,  as  the  phrase  is,  to  the  point  of 
the  pear,  fifty  or  sixty  yards  to  leeward,  where  there 
are  only  a  few,  just  enough  to  attract  the  birds. 

In  sinking  the  battery,  a  number  of  cast-iron  duck 
decoys,  canvas-backs  or  redheads,  weighing  twenty-five 
pounds  each,  are  placed  on  the  deck  or  platform.  For 
a  double  battery,  side  weights,  weighing  about  fifty-six 
pounds,  are  hung  by  loops  on  the  arms  running  out 
from  the  side  of  the  battery. 

The  gunner  lies  on  his  back  in  the  box,  with  his  gun 
at  his  right  side,  the  stock  near  his  hand  and  the  muz- 
zle resting  on  the  footboard  of  the  box.  Most  battery 
men  use  guns  with  32-inch  barrels,  so  that  they  will  be 
long  enough  to  rest  on  the  footboard.  A  gun  with  30- 
inch  barrels  is  likely  to  slip  down  into  the  box,  and  so 
to  be  less  easily  managed.  A  good  many  accidents 
have  occurred  by  men  using  guns  that  were  too  short, 
which  slipped  down  into  the  battery,  and,  exploding, 
have  shot  off  their  feet. 

•  After  his  battery  is  in  position,  and  his  decoys  are 
tied  out,  the  gunner  takes  his  place  in  the  box,  lying 
flat  on  his  back,  with  his  head  raised  by  his  pillow,  or 
headboard,  high  enough  so  that  his  eyes  are  just  above 
the  edges  of  the  box.  This  position  enables  him  to 
watch  almost  one-half  the  horizon,  looking  out  over  his 
decoys  and  seeing  plainly  about  120  degrees  of  the  cir- 
cle. As  his  head  lies  to  windward,  the  ducks  will,  pre- 
sumably, swing  over  the  tail  decoys  and  come  up  from 
the  leeward  to  alight.     As  soon  as  he  sees  them  he 


43^  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

grasps  the  gun,  wHich  is  lying  by  his  side,  and  at  the 
moment  when  they  set  their  wings  to  ahght,  or  when 
they  are  over  the  tail  decoys,  he  rises  to  a  sitting  pos- 
ture and  shoots.  The  battery  man's  gun  does  not  com- 
mand a  very  wide  range ;  he  can  shoot  to  the  right  only 
so  far  as  he  can  twist  his  body,  and,  in  his  cramped 
position,  this,  obviously,  is  not  very  far ;  but  if  the  birds 
are  immediately  before  him,  and  if  they  swing  to  his 
left,  his  chance  is  good.  Of  course,  he  has  little  or  no 
opportunity  to  shoot  at  birds  coming  down  the  wind, 
which  will  be  over  him  before  he  sees  them.  If  they  are 
disposed  to  decoy,  they  will  swing  and  come  back  to  the 
stools;  but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are  going  on,  he 
will  fail  to  have  the  shot  which,  if  in  a  blind,  he  might 
have  had  at  birds  coming  from  that  direction. 

Although  the  novice  in  battery  shooting  is  able  to 
cover  with  his  gun  little  more  than  one-third  the  circle 
of  the  horizon,  a  practiced  battery  shooter  has  a  much 
wider  range  for  his  gun.  This  he  obtains  by  what  is 
called  in  Chesapeake  Bay  ''throwing  out."  This  means 
that  after  a  man  has  raised  himself  to  a  sitting  position, 
if  the  bird  has  got  off  too  far  on  either  hand  to  be  eas- 
ily reached  by  the  gun,  he  throws  his  legs  out  of  the  box 
and  onto  the  platform,  or  deck,  of  the  battery,  so  that 
he  faces  the  side  of  the  battery,  looking  to  the  right  or 
to  the  left,  and  is  thus  able,  without  difHculty,  to  shoot 
at  birds  on  either  hand.  This  can  be  done  only  by  one 
who  is  at  home  in  the  box ;  but  it  greatly  increases  the 
effectiveness  of  his  shooting. 

After  the  gunner  has  taken  his  position  in  his  box, 


BATTERY    SHOOTING.  437 

with  gun,  ammunition,  and  such  other  articles  as  he 
needs,  the  sloop  in  which  he  and  his  battery  were  trans- 
ported to  the  ground  leaves  him,  and  either  takes  up  a 
position  well  to  the  leeward,  and  so  far  away  that  by 
no  possibility  can  it  interfere  with  the  flight  of  the 
birds,  or  else — and  this  is  the  more  common  practice — 
sails  about  over  the  waters,  directing  its  course  to  any 
body  of  resting  birds  that  it  may  see,  disturbs  them,  and 
causes  them  to  take  wing,  in  the  hope  that  in  their  flight 
they  may  pass  near  the  decoys  about  the  battery,  and 
go  to  them.  It  is  the  part  of  the  tender,  also,  if  the 
shooting  is  lively,  to  cruise,  at  frequent  intervals,  half 
a  mile  or  a  mile  to  leeward  of  the  gunner,  to  pick  up 
the  birds  that  may  be  killed  The  tender  must  also  keep 
a  sharp  lookout  at  the  battery,  so  as  to  obey  any  signals 
that  may  be  made  by  the  battery-man,  and,  if  called,  to 
get  to  him  as  speedily  as  possible.  Usually  some  set  of 
signals  are  arranged,  which  may  save  time  and  effort. 

Commonly,  if  two  men  go  out  to  use  a  single  battery, 
they  toss  up  for  choice  as  to  who  shall  first  occupy  it, 
the  first  hour  after  dawn  being  usually  the  best  for 
shooting. 

Let  us  imagine  the  battery-man  safely  in  his  box,  and 
deserted  by  his  tender.  The  dim  light  is  beginning  to 
show  in  the  east,  and  the  first  sounds  of  coming  day  are 
to  be  heard.  The  distant  honking  of  geese  breaks  the 
stillness,  followed,  perhaps,  by  the  wild,  laughing  cry 
of  the  loon,  or  the  mellow  call  of  a  bunch  of  old-squaws. 
The  faintly  musical  whistle  of  the  wings  of  passing 
birds  is  heard,  and,  as  the  light  grows,  dark  streaks, 


438  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

looking  like  clouds,  are  seen  against  the  yellowing  sky, 
showing  where  the  flocks  of  birds  have  begun  their 
flight.  Suddenly,  low  over  the  water,  and  nearly  at 
the  tail  of  the  decoys,  the  gunner  sees  a  dark,  swiftly 
moving  mass,  which  presently  resolves  itself  into  a 
flock  of  a  dozen  broadbills,  which  swing  over  and 
bunch  up  to  his  left,  preparing  to  alight.  Just  as 
they  come  together,  he  sits  up  in  his  box,  aims  well  for- 
ward, and  a  little  below  the  leading  ducks,  and,  at  the 
report,  three  of  them  fall  to  the  water,  while  his  second 
barrel  accounts  for  two  more  which  crossed,  as  the  flock 
turned  to  fly  away. 

The  shot  was  a  fortunate  one,  for  all  the  birds  lie 
still  upon  the  water,  and  at  once  begin  to  drift  to  lee- 
ward, under  the  light  breeze.  Hardly  has  the  gunner 
reloaded,  and  sunk  again  to  a  recumbent  posture,  when 
he  sees,  again,  to  leeward,  the  swiftly  moving  wings  of 
a  single  duck,  which  comes  up  over  the  decoys,  and, 
with  erected  head  feathers,  glances  this  way  and  that, 
as  if  uncertain  where  to  alight,  among  so  many  friends. 
Again  the  gun  rings  out,  and  another  bird  tosses  light- 
ly, breast  upward,  on  the  water.  Blackheads  and 
broadbills  and  tufted  ducks  are  likely  to  come,  through 
the  morning,  in  small  bunches  or  by  twos  and  threes, 
and  to  give  good  shooting. 

Beside  the  birds  that  come  into  the  stools,  many 
bunches  will  be  seen  flying  high  in  air — trading  birds 
they  are  called — which  pass  over  without  seeming  to 
notice  the  counterfeits  upon  the  water ;  yet,  sometimes, 
these  birds,  often  canvas-backs  or  redheads,  may  be 


BATTERY    SHOOTING.  439 

called  down  by  an  imitation  of  their  note ;  and,  lower- 
ing their  flight,  by  erratic  plunges,  will  swing  about 
two  or  three  times,  and,  at  last,  come  over  the  gunner, 
near  enough  to  be  shot  at.  On  the  whole,  however, 
here,  as  in  most  other  shooting,  it  is  the  birds  which 
come  singly,  or  in  very  small  groups,  which  afford  the 
greatest  sport.  A  large  flock  of  birds,  shot  into,  are 
thoroughly  alarmed,  and  fly  a  long  way  before  again 
coming  to  the  water. 

While  the  gunner  is  having  his  sport  in  the  box,  his 
tender  is  working  about,  not  far  off,  usually  keeping 
a  close  watch  on  the  battery  with  his  glasses,  and  also 
on  the  surface  of  the  water,  prepared  to  recover  any 
dead  birds  that  he  may  see.  Usually  a  net  is  carried 
for  this  purpose,  by  which  the  floating  birds  are  lifted 
on  board,  as  well  as  a  gun,  to  be  used  in  killing  cripples. 

Should  the  weather  give  signs  of  being  bad,  or  the 
wind  breeze  up  unduly,  the  tender  draws  nearer  and 
nearer  the  battery,  for,  if  a  heavy  sea  springs  up,  the 
gunner  will  need  prompt  assistance. 

Although  the  modern  battery,  with  its  canvas  wings, 
keeps  down  the  sea  far  better  than  the  old-fashioned 
box,  with  wings  formed  of  boards,  still  a  battery  will 
not  live  in  much  of  a  sea-way,  and,  as  soon  as  water 
begins  to  come  into  the  box,  the  gunner  is,  at  least, 
very  uncomfortable,  if  not  in  danger  of  sinking  with 
his  craft.  It  is  not  always  easy  for  the  men  on  board 
the  tender  to  judge  just  how  the  battery-man  is  getting 
on,  and,  as  the  breeze  increases,  and  the  sea  lifts,  he  is 
anxiously  watched  for  any  signal.     Should  it  be  neces- 


440  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

sary  to  take  up,  the  sloop  is  anchored  close  at  hand,  the 
battery-man,  and  his  possessions,  transferred  to  the 
sloop,  and  then  the  men  take  up  the  decoys,  bring  the 
battery  alongside,  and,  rolling  up  the  head  fender,  take 
it  on  the  sloop's  deck. 

During  each  season,  of  course,  there  will  be  many 
days  when  the  water  is  so  rough  that  a  battery  cannot 
live  in  it,  and,  on  such  days,  which  are  usually  the  best 
for  gunning,  the  battery-man  must  stay  on  board  his 
sloop.  There  will  be  other  days,  perhaps,  when  the 
sound  is  frozen,  and  it  is  impossible  to  tie  out  in  a  bat- 
tery. On  the  whole,  therefore,  the  number  of  birds 
secured  in  this  manner  is  not  so  great  as  might  be  sup- 
posed; but,  as  stated  elsewhere,  it  is  a  destructive 
means  of  shooting,  because,  usually,  the  battery  is  tied 
out  on  the  feeding  grounds,  and  because,  commonly, 
the  sloop,  or  sail  boat,  is  constantly  moving  about,  driv- 
ing the  birds  from  their  resting  places,  in  the  hope 
that  they  may  go  to  the  stools  near  the  battery.  Many 
years  ago,  in  Chesapeake  Bay,  it  is  recorded,  a  gunner, 
shooting  from  a  battery,  with  two  guns,  killed,  in  one 
day,  over  500  ducks ;  and  there  is  a  more  recent  record 
of  one  man  who  killed  300  birds  in  a  day. 

Battery  shooting  is  very  attractive  sport,  and,  under 
favorable  circumstances,  yields  large  bags, 

SHOOTING   FROM   A   HOUSE-BOAT. 

To  be  practiced  successfully,  house-boat  shooting  re- 
quires special  conditions,  and  these  conditions  exist  on 


SHOOTING  FROM  A   HOUSE-BOAT.  441 

but  few  waters.  The  following  account,  from  the 
graceful  pen  of  Mr.  Wilmot  Town  send,  tells  how  this 
form  of  sport  is  enjoyed  on  Lake  Champlain : 

What  is  a  house-boat  blind  ?  Simply  a  flat-bottomed 
boat  with  a  house  thereon,  covering  three-quarters  of 
its  length  and  hidden  entirely  in  cedar  boughs,  top, 
sides  and  all  around.  And  so  artfully  is  the  cedar  ar- 
ranged that  the  resemblance  to  a  green  islet  (save  for 
its  somewhat  regular  outlines)  is  complete. 

With  tight  roof  and  sides,  the  interior  of  this  little 
house  is  a  veritable  snuggery  furnished  with  bunks, 
table,  camp  stools,  gun  rack,  shelves  for  provisions  and 
cartridges,  and  last  but  not  least,  a  kerosene  stove, 
which,  when  kept  properly  cleaned  and  trimmed,  will 
give  you  a  smoking  hot  dinner  at  short  notice. 

And  after  a  day  spent  in  the  open  air,  when  the  lungs 
are  filled  to  cracking  with  the  pure  breeze  that  filters 
down  through  the  groves  of  pine  and  hemlock  covering 
the  hills,  and  comes  all  pungent  with  balsamic  odors,  to 
dance  about  the  clear  waters  of  Champlain,  ''a  smoking 
hot  dinner,"  sauced  with  the  ravenous  appetite  of  a 
wolf,  is  not  to  be  despised. 

The  house,  occupying  three-quarters  of  the  boat's 
length,  leaves  the  bow  clear,  and  here  you  have  ample 
room  to  stand  and  with  a  good  field  glass  may  sweep 
the  lake  in  search  of  fowl. 

A  portion  of  this  space  is  occupied  by  a  roomy  and 
comfortable  coop  for  the  live  decoys,  the  cedar  being 
carried  up  in  front  and  at  the  sides  to  about  shoulder 


442  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

high,  so  that  the  fowl  when  lured  within  the  "dead 
line,"  which  is  the  space  covered  by  an  ordinarily  strong 
shooting  gun,  say  about  40  yards,  are  in  plain  sight 
when  you  stand  erect. 

A  flock  of  ducks  approach.  Their  every  movement 
may  be  watched  through  sundry  little  peepholes  among 
the  twigs  as  you  crouch  low  with  ready  gun. 

A  moment,  and  they  are  within  shot.  You  see  the 
bright  eyes,  the  hovering  wings,  and  rising,  rouse  the 
echoes  with  both  barrels. 

Tis  done !  What  is  done  ?  Why,  you  have  either 
brought  sundry  ducks  to  bag  or  scared  them  "inside 
out,"  in  which  case  you  will  form  some  idea  of  what  a 
scared  duck  can  do  in  the  way  of  speed  as  he  buzzes  off, 
quacking  in  terror  the  while. 

Ducking  from  a  house-boat  is  the  very  acme  of 
comfort  in  this  ofttimes  arduous  pursuit.  Blow  high, 
blow  low,  you  have  your  cozy  cabin,  and  pleasant  it  is 
to  sit  within,  puffing  a  quiet  pipe  and  listening  to  the 
pouring  rain  while  the  storm  rages. 

At  the  first  sign  of  clearing  weather,  one  is  literally 
"on  deck"  for  business. 

Fifteen  miles  from  Burlington,  Vt.,  over  a  good 
road,  winding  amid  ever-changing  scenery,  you  reach 
Sand  Bar  Bridges,  a  roadway  connecting  the  mainland 
with  Grand  Island. 

South  and  west  extend  the  fiats,  it  being  possible  to 
walk  in  some  directions  here  quite  a  mile  from-^shore 
without  bringing  the  water  above  knee-deep. 

On  these  flats  the  blind  was  moored,  and  therein 


SHOOTING  FROM  A  HOUSE-BOAT,  443 

it  was  my  fortunate  privilege  to  spend  a  few  days  in 
September, 

To  the  north  and  west  lay  Grand  Island,  distant 
about  three  miles.  Above  its  rounding  hills  and  flank- 
ing the  lake  shore,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  to  the 
south,  loomed  the  silent  Adirondacks,  grand  and 
sphinx-like  in  repose.  The  play  of  light  and  shadow 
gave  a  wondrous  depth  of  tone  to  the  scene.  Even  the 
wandering  clouds  seem  to  linger  with  a  soft  caress 
about  the  mountain  tops,  reaching  out  with  long,  filmy 
streamers  from  summit  to  summit,  leaving  each  slowly, 
regretfully,  as  though  parting  with  an  old  friend. 

The  use  of  live  decoys  was  a  feature  of  duck  shooting 
that  was  unfamiliar  to  me,  and  I  looked  forward  with 
impatience  to  the  day  when  Elmer  was  to  initiate  me. 
The  decoys  were  sturdy  specimens  of  black  duck, 
nearly  pure  wild  blood,  and  certainly  their  markings 
were  exactly  similar  to  those  of  their  wild  brethren.  If  it 
were  not  for  a  certain  sluggishness  of  movement,  due 
possibly  to  their  having  spent  the  summer  in  the  barn- 
yard among  the  plebeian  ducks  and  chickens,  it  would 
be  almost  impossible  to  distinguish  them  from  the  wary 
thoroughbreds  that  frequent  the  lake. 

The  manner  of  working  with  them  is  as  follows :  A 
small  platform,  or  log,  is  placed  some  20  yards  from  the 
blind  in  front,  its  top  just  flush  with  the  surface  of  the 
water. 

A  decoy  is  tethered  by  a  string  to  a  peg  firmly  thrust 
into  the  hard  sand  of  the  flats,  about  6  feet  distant,  the 
string  being  just  long  enough  to  allow  of  the  decoy 


444  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

reaching  the  platform,  where  it  will  stand  and  preen  its 
feathers,  quacking  meanwhile  with  energy  at  every 
passing  bird,  or  in  more  subdued  tones  holding  converse 
with  its  companions  in  the  coop  on  the  blind. 

The  live  decoy  occupies  the  apex  of  a  triangle,  the 
sides  being  strung  with  the  ordinary  wooden  decoys  in 
greater  or  less  numbers  as  inclination  may  suggest,  al- 
though the  squawking  of  this  feathered  siren  makes  a 
large  display  unnecessary. 

When  a  flock  of  ducks  appear,  her  calls  seldom  fail 
to  attract  their  attention,  and  as  she  stands  upon  the 
little  platform  she  shows  up  in  such  fine  form  that  they 
generally  turn  to  investigate. 

And  now  Elmer  will  take  a  decoy  from  the  coop, 
crouching  low  as  he  grasps  it  firmly  with  both  hands. 
A  quick  toss  sends  it  high  in  air  above  the  blind,  where 
with  noisy  expostulation  it  presently  sails  down  with 
outspread  wings  and  joins  its  tethered  mate.  This 
manoeuvre  rarely  fails  to  decide  the  action  of  the  wild 
birds.  They  either  at  once  set  their  wings  and  swiftly 
scale  in  to  the  decoys,  or,  circling  a  few  times,  alight, 
and  after  consulting  together,  swim  up  within  range  of 
the  leaden  death  that  is  lurking  within  the» cedars  of 
the  blind. 

Should  they  act  as  though  suspicious,  the  judicious 
tossing  of  a  few  more  decoys  will  settle  it,  and  it  is  curi- 
ous to  see  the  air  of  fearlessness  which  now  pervades 
the  flock  as  they  swim  rapidly  up. 

It  often  happens  that  several  bunches  of  ducks  will 
swim  in  from  different  directions  at  the  same  time,  and 


SHOOTING  FROM  A   HOUSE-BOAT.  445 

then  it  is  a  pleasure  to  see  the  careful  way  in  which  the 
decoys  are  handled. 

No  tossing  now.  Instead,  a  decoy  is  quietly  pushed 
through  between  the  cedars  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
blind,  and  quacking  loudly  with  a  sense  of  freedom,  it 
hurries  to  its  chums,  who  are  already  disporting  them- 
selves about  the  little  platform  of  this  tethered  occu- 
pant. With  bated  breath  we  peep  through  the  boughs 
at  the  approaching  fowl.  Not  a  sound  is  made  by  us  as 
they  come  in ;  a  look  is  all  that  is  required.  It  says : 
**Are  you  ready?"  A  wink  answers  *'Yes,"  and  rising, 
we  cut  loose. 

Not  waiting  to  see  what  execution  has  been  done, 
each  grasps  a  spare  gun,  and  again  we  stop  a  couple  as 
they  cross  in  wild  affright,  ''doin'  stunts,"  says  Elmer. 

With  the  clearing  away  of  the  fog  of  burned  powder, 
we  see  eleven  ducks  scattered  here  and  there  waiting  to 
be  gathered,  and  wading  out  we  attend  to  them. 

But  what  of  the  live  decoys  ?  During  all  this  excite- 
ment they  have  been  huddled  in  a  compact  bunch  near 
the  little  platform  and  are  now  unconcernedly  swim- 
ming about  among  the  dead  and  dying. 

I  go  to  the  blind,  raise  the  sliding  door  of  the  coop, 
and  Elmer  walking  behind  them,  our  duck  assistants 
swim  to  the  gangway  and  waddle  up  into  the  coop  in  a 
matter-of-fact  manner  that  is  laughable. 

Fully  plumed  for  flight,  not  hampered  in  any  way, 
the  idea  that  they  are  free  to  go  never  seems  to  enter 
their  silly  heads.  Once  in  a  while  they  will  leave  for 
parts  unknown,  but  this  seldom  occurs. 


446  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

In  the  use  of  live  decoys  it  is  found  of  great  advan- 
tage in  accustoming  them  to  their  duties,  to  have  a  few 
well-trained,  older  birds,  whose  example  is  quickly  fol- 
lowed by  the  younger  members  of  the  flock. 

It  is  very  necessary  to  take  pains  at  the  outset  in  the 
arrangement  of  the  little  board  or  gangway  which  leads 
up  from  the  water  to  the  coop  in  the  blind.  The  incline 
must  be  easy,  so  that  at  the  first  attempt  on  the  part  of 
the  decoys  to  enter  they  will  find  no  difficulty  in  com- 
fortably ascending.  If  too  steep  an  incline,  they  are 
likely  to  slip  and  flutter  clumsily  in  the  effort  to  regain 
footing,  and  ever  after  will  hesitate  to  make  the  at- 
tempt, swimming  and  dodging  about  the  blind  until 
finally  driven  in. 

This,  of  course,  is  very  annoying  and  seriously  inter- 
feres with  the  results  of  a  day's  sport.  With  proper 
attention  to  these  details,  however,  there  appears  to  be 
little  trouble  afterward,  and  certainly  to  one  who  finds 
something  of  interest  in  the  accessories  of  duck  shoot- 
ing, and  whose  entire  enjoyment  of  a  shooting  trip  is 
not  confined  to  the  mere  killing  of  game,  the  working 
with  live  decoys  is  extremely  interesting. 

In  selecting  a  decoy  to  tether  out  as  a  caller,  a  female 
should  always  be  taken,  as  she  has  the  well-known  lo- 
quacity of  her  sex  in  general,  and  proves,  as  w^ith 
human  beings,  a  greater  attraction  than  the  male.  The 
drakes  are  rarely  tethered,  being  reserved  for  tossing 
into  the  air. 

In  calm  weather,  when  the  fowd  are  not  moving 
about,  the  door  of  the  coop  may  be  raised,  and  the  whole 


ICE  HOLE   SHOOTING.  447 

flock  will  go  out  and  disport  themselves,  romping  and 
playing  tag  as  it  were,  having  a  big  time  generally  for 
an  hour  or  so,  returning  of  their  own  volition  when 
ready.  In  giving  them  liberty,  as  above,  always  see  to 
it  that  one  of  their  number  is  tethered,  as  they  are  then 
less  likely  to  stray.  With  regular  feeding  and  plenty 
of  exercise,  a  decoy  will  keep  in  excellent  condition  the 
season  through.  There  is  amusement  in  watching 
their  many  antics.  For  instance,  one  habit  they  have  is 
to  pitch  into  the  decoy  that  has  just  been  released  from 
its  tether,  the  instant  it  is  returned  to  the  coop,  and  the 
scramble  that  regularly  takes  place  on  these  occasions 
is  ludicrous,  each  one  trying  to  thump  the  luckless  indi- 
vidual and  all  squawking  and  tumbling  about  the  coop 
in  wild  confusion. 

Why  they  should  wish  to  vent  such  spite  is  beyond 
my  comprehension,  but  such  is  the  case,  and  at  each 
change  of  decoys  the  scene  is  repeated  with  never-fail- 
ing regularity.  When  fowl  are  moving,  the  sport  from 
such  a  blind  is  fine,  as  they  come  right  up  until  one  can 
see  their  eyes  twinkle. 


ICE  HOLE  SHOOTING. 

It  is  well  understood  that  there  are  a  number  of  spe- 
cies of  ducks  which  do  not  migrate  so  long  as  there  is 
open  water  in  which  they  can  feed.  On  many  streams 
in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  where  there  is  rough  and  tur- 


448  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

bulent  water  caused  by  rapids,  or  where  warm  springs 
breaking  out  under  the  bank,  or  from  the  bottom,  keep 
the  water  open  through  the  winter,  great  numbers  of 
wildfowl  remain  from  autumn  until  spring,  although 
the  temperature  often  falls  to  twenty  or  thirty  degrees 
below  zero,  or  even  to  the  point  where  mercury  freezes. 

In  many  places  in  the  Middle  West,  the  mallards 
seem  loath  to  move  southward,  and  do  not  go  until  all 
the  marshes  and  streams  are  frozen,  so  that  feeding  is 
no  longer  possible  for. them.  There  are  sloughs  and 
rivers  where  the  current  or  the  springs  from  the  bot- 
tom keep  open  what  are  called  air-holes,  long  after  the 
frost  has  sealed  up  the  waters  in  general,  and  to  such 
open  places  the  late-staying  ducks  continue  to  resort  in 
considerable  numbers  after  their  more  tender  fellows 
have  taken  their  departure  to  warmer  climes.  So  long 
as  such  open  water  is  accessible  it  will  continue  to  give 
food  to  the  ducks,  but  gradually  the  area  of  the  air- 
holes becomes  more  and  more  contracted,  until  at  last 
the  ice  wholly  covers  them,  and  then  the  birds  are 
obliged  to  move  onward. 

The  gunner  who  is  fortunate  enough  to  find  one  of 
these,  air-holes  is  quite  sure  to  have  good  shooting  for  a 
short  time,  and  if  there  are  several  of  them  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, so  that  the  birds  can  pass  from  one  to  another, 
he  will  have  many  opportunities  at  single  birds  and 
small  bunches,  from  which  he  should  get  a  good  bag 
during  the  day. 

It  is,  of  course,  well  understood  by  every  experienced 
gunner  that  if,  on  approaching  a  place  such  as  this 


ICE   HOLE   SHOOTING.  449 

many  ducks  are  found,  he  should  drive  them  away  with- 
out shooting  at  them,  in  order  that  a  Httle  later  they 
may  return  in  small  companies  and  give  him  many 
shots,  whereas,  if  he  fired  at  the  main  flock  when  he 
first  discovered  them,  they  would  be  seriously  fright- 
ened, and  would  disappear  not  to  return  for  a  long  time. 
An  account  of  shooting  of  this  sort,  written  some 
years  ago,  for  Forest  and  Stream,  by  a  correspondent 
signing  himself  G.  L.  R.,  is  given  here : 

Late  in  the  fall,  or  very  early  in  the  spring,  very  ex- 
cellent shooting  may  be  had  at  times  in  ice  holes.  These 
holes  are  found  in  running  water,  or  at  what  are  gener- 
ally known  as  air-holes.  When  the  weather  has  been 
cold,  and  all  the  prairie  ponds  are  frozen,  driving  the 
ducks  from  open  land  to  timber,  they  naturally  seek 
for  water  wherever  it  may  be  found.  They  fly  through 
the  timber  and  over  the  trees  in  constant  search  for 
open  water — places  where  experience  had  heretofore 
taught  them  that  water  and  feed  could  be  found  in 
plenty.  Their  flight  is  slow,  their  search  thorough, 
and  they  are  not  unrewarded,  for  they  find  a  spot  where 
water  may  be  had. 

When  they  find  a  place  like  this,  they  alight  in  great 
numbers.  The  quantity  lighting  in  the  hole  depends 
on  the  number  of  them  coming.  This  hole,  like  an  om- 
nibus, always  has  room  for  one  more.  After  the  hole 
is  filled  they  become  generous,  and  wishing  to  make 
room  for  fresh  arrivals,  they  crawl  out  and  sit  on  the 
ice,  quacking  vigorously,  or,  w-ith  craws  distended  with 


450  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

corn,  fruits  of  the  last  overland  trip,  sit  on  the  ice 
preening  themselves  and  sleeping  the  time  away.  Their 
loud  calls  vibrate  and  course  through  the  still  woods, 
carrying  welcome  music  to  the  alert  ears  of  the  hunter. 

He  marks  the  direction,  and  stealthily  proceeds  to 
locate  them.  Then  some  noisy  duck,  having  partaken 
too  freely  of  corn,  and  feeling  the  effects  of  its  fermen- 
tation, raises  her  voice  so  loudly  that  he  marks  the  spot 
where  they  are  located.  He  shows  his  open  palm  to  his 
dog,  and  thus  conveys  to  him  warning  for  great  cau- 
tion. The  dog  understands  this  signal  and  crouches 
close  to  the  earth.  Those  two  friends  stand  silently 
behind  a  projecting  tree,  the  gunner  debating  in  his 
mind  whether  to  step  boldly  out  and  rout  the  birds  or 
attempt  by  crawling  to  get  a  sitting  shot.  He  decides 
on  the  former,  and  when  he  steps  out  in  open  sight  is 
seen,  and,  with  a  grand  roar  that  fills  the  woods  with 
its  volume,  the  birds  arise  in  fright,  and  in  pairs  and 
flocks,  both  great  and  small,  fly  away.  The  dog  looks 
askance  at  his  master,  questioning  the  propriety  of  rout- 
ing such  an  immense  flock  without  firing  a  shot,  but  a 
reassuring  pat  on  the  head  and  he  silently  acquiesces  in 
the  judgment  of  his  master. 

The  ducks  are  loath  to  leave  a  place  like  this,  and 
soon  begin  to  return — they  will  not  keep  out.  Coolly 
the  hunter  knocks  them  right  and  left ;  the  dog  is  in  an 
ecstasy  of  delight.  Constant  exercise  has  caused  his 
blood  to  rush  through  his  veins.  He  comes  and  goes 
in  and  out  of  the  water,  his  brown  coat  glistening  with 
ice,  forming  brilliant  beads  in  the  sunlight;  then  he 


ICE  HOLE   SHOOTING.  45 1 

marks  the  course  of  a  wing-tipped  drake  as  it  tries 
hard  to  follow  the  flock  and  falls  one  or  two  hundred 
yards  from  the  shooter.  Away  he  goes  over  ridges, 
brushpiles  and  frozen  sloughs,  and  soon  returns,  the 
drake  in  his  strong  jaws,  its  good  wing  beating  against 
his  nose,  and  delivers  it  to  his  master. 

When  a  man  finds  a  place  like  this,  he  has  found  a 
mine  which  is  inexhaustible  for  that  day.  If  he  intends 
staying  in  the  neighborhood,  he  should  hunt  some  other 
place  similar  to  this,  hunt  them  on  alternate  days,  and 
his  shooting  will  be  go(»d  each  day.  It  is  advisable  to 
scatter  corn  in  the  hole  and  around  the  edges  on  the  ice, 
but  plenty  in  the  hole  if  the  water  is  shallow.  The  birds 
will  soon  discover  this,  and  come  often ;  and,  if  the  hun- 
ter is  a  good  shot,  will  tarry  long.  As-fast  as  killed,  set 
up  the  dead  ducks  for  decoys ;  keep  on  until  you  have  a 
good-sized  flock.  No  fear  of  having  too  many — the 
more  the  better. 

In  building  a  blind,  advantage  must  be  taken  of  lo- 
cality. If  m  timber,  secrete  yourself  well,  with  a  good 
open  place  to  shoot  through.  Better  have  an  indifferent 
blind  with  a  good  place  to  shoot  through  than  one 
where  you  find  you  cannot  shoot  without  interference 
of  limbs.  Should  you  find  the  shooting  must  be  had 
in  an  exposed  pond  or  river,  where  a  shore  blind  cannot 
be  made,  your  ingenuity  will  be  taxed  to  hide  yourself, 
and  you  must  depend  as  much  on  quietness  and  patience 
as  on  a  blind.  Should  the  ice  be  strong  enough  to  bear 
you,  build  a  wall  ten  or  twelve  inches  high  of  ice  or 
snow  to  conceal  you.     A  little  hay,  a  rubber  blanket 


452  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

spread  over  it,  cover  yourself  with  a  white  cloth,  wait 
patiently ;  it's  a  splendid  place  for  contemplation,  espe- 
cially if  the  thermometer  registers  down  about  zero. 
You  can  drive  away  the  coldness  by  thinking  about 
Turkish  baths,  strawberries  and  cream,  and  the  church 
sociables  you  enjoyed  last  summer. 

One  writer,  speaking  of  ice  hole  shooting,  says  a 
good  way  to  build  a  blind  is :  ''Take  a  barrel,  chop  a 
hole  through  the  ice  so  the  barrel  will  slip  through,  nail 
pieces  of  scantling  on  the  sides  of  the  barrel,  fill  the  bar- 
rel with  water  until  it  sinks  down  far  enough,  then  bail 
the  water  out,  first  cutting  narrow  edges  through  the 
ice,  push  the  scantlings  down,  give  them  a  half  twist, 
and  they  will  hold  the  barrel  where  wanted.  Put  in 
hay  and  push  snow  against  the  sides  and  top  of  the  bar- 
rel to  hide  it,  and  the  blind  is  complete."  No  doubt  this 
would  work,  but  it  would  hardly  pay  to  go  to  so  much 
trouble.  The  only  good  way  is  to  shoot  from  the  shore, 
as  first  mentioned;  any  other  manner  has  drawbacks 
that  will  more  than  offset  the  pleasure  derived. 

Never  take  any  chances  in  trying  to  get  duck  shoot- 
ing around  ice.  Better  not  get  a  shot  than  attempt  to 
get  to  some  place  where  there  is  a  flight,  and  then  take 
chances  of  breaking  in.  If  you  haven't  a  boat  or  a  good 
dog,  and  know  you  cannot  get  the  dead  birds  without 
retrieving  them  yourself  over  ice  that  might  be  weak ; 
turn  your  back  to  that  hole  and  walk  away ;  you  have  no 
right  to  take  any  such  chance,  and  no  wise  man  will  do 
it.  Death  by  drowning  is  said  to  be  an  easy  death.  If, 
then,  you  prefer  death  in  this  way,  choose  summer- 


WINTER    SHOOTING  ON    LAKE    ONTARIO.       453 

time ;  the  water  will  feel  decidedly  more  pleasant  and 
flowers  are  much  cheaper. 


WINTER  DUCK  SHOOTING  ON  LAKE  ONTARIO. 

That  duck  shooting  is  hard  work  and  entails  much 
exposure  and  suffering  and  danger,  is  a  saying  so  fa- 
miliar that  it  has  passed  almost  into  a  proverb.  Not 
infrequently  we  hear  of  men  having  been  drowned  or 
frozen  to  death  w^hile  duck  shooting  late  in  the  season, 
and  cases  of  actual  suffering  are  common.  A  form  of 
sport  in  which  there  is  much  exposure  and  sometimes 
not  a  little  danger  is  practiced  at  different  points  on  the 
Great  Lakes  in  winter,  and  the  methods  pursued  are 
well  described  by  Mr.  Olin  B.  Coit,  of  Oswego,  N.  Y., 
in  the  following  article  contributed  by  him  to  Forest 
and  Stream  in  the  year  1895.     ^^  says : 

Methods  of  hunting  the  same  kind  of  game  differ 
with  the  location  and  the  season.  There  is  no  mode  of 
ducking  that  is  so  novel  or  attended  with  greater  dis- 
comfort and  danger  than  winter  shooting  on  Lake  On- 
tario. The  ducks  that  make  their  homes  in  these  icy 
waters  are  whistlers,  broadbills,  coots,  sheldrakes  and 
old-wives.  The  three  latter  kinds  are  fish  ducks  and 
on  the  coast  are  strong  and  inferior  in  flavor,  for  they 
there  live  on  fish  and  sea  food.  But  the  lake  usually 
furnishes  each  autumn  several  cargoes  of  barley  and 


454  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

wheat  that  are  wrecked  and  scattered  along  its  shores. 
Thither  the  ducks  congregate,  and  after  man}^  weeks' 
feeding  on  the  water-soaked  grain  their  flesh  becomes 
fat  and  fine-flavored. 

They  feed  with  ease  in  water  that  is  twelve  to  fifteen 
feet  deep,  diving  to  the  bottom  and  remaining  under 
water  an  incredible  time.  It  is  often  amusing  to  shoot 
at  one  or  two  ducks  swimming  about,  and  the  next  in- 
stant to  see  the  water  broken  in  all  directions  by  the 
birds  popping  up  from  underneath,  where  they  have 
been  breakfasting.  Now  is  the  time  for  alertness,  for 
if  the  gunners  are  busy  enough  they  may  slaughter 
many  before  they  have  made  a  change  of  elements. 

Ice  forms  in  the  shoal  water  many  yards  from  the 
shore.  Anchor  ice  and  frozen  spray  are  piled  upon  this 
in  wild  confusion,  until  it  looks  like  the  surface  of  a 
glacier,  with  hillocks  and  crevasses.  Frequently  spout 
holes  are  formed,  out  of  which  the  water,  forced  up- 
ward b}^  the  waves  dashing  underneath,  leaps  for  many 
feet  into  the  air,  and  freezing  as  it  falls,  forms  a  cone 
like  those  in  the  crater  of  a  volcano. 

The  outer  edge  of  this  ice  reef  is  formed  into  a  line 
of  ice  cliffs  and  battlements  containing  caves  of  won- 
drous beauty  and  little  coves  and  fjords  like  a  miniature 
Norway  coast  line. 

The  hunters  are  clad  in  garments  of  white  duck, 
white  caps  covering  the  hair,  and  white  masks.  Even 
white  covers  are  used  for  the  guns.  TheSe  are  ar- 
ranged to  be  easily  slipped  off  when  the  time  of  action 
arrives.     An  excavation  is  made  on  the  edge  of  the  ice, 


SHOOTING  IN   THE  ICE.  455 

in  which  the  hunters  are  to  conceal  themselves.  The 
decoys  are  anchored  at  a  convenient  distance,  and  the 
boat,  drawn  into  a  little  cove  of  the  ice,  is  covered  with 
a  white  cloth.  One  does  not  have  to  wait  long  for  a 
shot,  as  the  ducks  fly  in  great  numbers.  The  cold  is 
often  intense,  and  the  frozen  spray  stiffens  the  clothing 
and  covers  everything  with  an  icy  armor.  A  wind 
break  of  blocks  of  ice  is  often  an  absolute  necessity. 
But,  despite  cold  and  discomfort,  it  is  sport,  and  every- 
thing goes. 

Large  numbers  of  ducks  are  shot  in  this  way,  but  not 
all  the  slain  are  retrieved,  for  the  launching  of  a  boat  in 
the  wintry  seas  is  a  dangerous  operation  and  a  capsize 
is  something  to  be  carefully  avoided. 


SHOOTING  IN  THE  ICEo 

On  many  of  our  northern  streams,  when  the  ice 
breaks  up  in  the  spring,  and  even  during  a  thaw  in  win- 
ter, ducks  are  frequently  found  searching  for  feeding 
grounds  that  have  not  already  been  exhausted.  In 
such  places,  fairly  good  gunning  can  be  had  by  men 
who  are  willing  to  work  hard,  and  to  endure  discom- 
forts of  cold  and  wet.  Mild,  still  weather  is  desirable 
for  work  of  this  kind ;  while  usually,  of  course,  the 
worse  the  weather  the  better  for  ducking.  The  boat 
used  for  this  is  either  a  low,  flat-decked  ducking  boat, 
or  something  in  the  nature  of  a  Barnegat  sneak-boat, 


456  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

which,  though  a  Httle  largenand  more  conspicuous,  has 
the  great  advantage  of  being  much  more  roomy.  The 
boat  should  be  painted  white,  to  resemble  the  ice,  and  it 
is  common  for  the  gunners  to  wear  white  canvas  coats 
and  white  caps.  Ducks  are  looked  for  in  the  likely 
places  among  the  floating  ice,  and  along  feeding 
grounds  close  to  the  shore,  if  any  such  are  bare. 

When  birds  are  discovered,  the  oars  are  shipped,  and 
the  boat  is  sculled  or  paddled  very  slowly  and  cau- 
tiously up  to  the  ducks.  If  the  work  is  properly  done 
the  birds  will  not  lift  their  heads  to  look  at  the  boat. 
In  this  work  frequent  advantage  may  be  taken  of  the 
floating  cakes  of  ice,  which  will  cover  the  approach  of 
the  boat,  and  even  if  there  is  no  such  cover  as  this,  a 
good  sculler  may  often  get  within  easy  gunshot.  When 
this  is  done,  the  gunner  usually  takes  one  shot  at  the 
birds  on  the  water,  and  another  as  they  rise ;  and  pos- 
sibly, if  he  has  a  spare  gun,  and  the  birds  are  confused, 
as  they  often  are,  he  may  even  get  two  more  barrels  in. 
Then  follows  the  work  of  shooting  over  the  cripples, 
which  should  be  done  at  once,  as  it  is  very  easy  to  lose 
birds  under  such  conditions.  The  ducks  most  com- 
monly captured  in  this  way  are  black  ducks,  whistlers, 
pintails,  and  sometimes  redheads. 

This  sport  necessitates  much  hard  w^ork,  but  the  re- 
ward of  a  few  birds  fully  compensates  the  gunner  for 
his  efforts. 

Much  more  destructive  than  this  prowling  about  in 
the  rivers  for  small  bunches  of  ducks,  is  that  practiced 
during  the  spring  migration  at  the  mouths  of  some  of 


SHOOTING  IN   THE  ICE.  457 

the  larger  rivers,  notably  the  Delaware.  In  this,  large 
guns  are  used,  and  the  sport  is  practiced  chiefly  by 
market'  gunners,  who  ship  their  game  to  Philadelphia 
daily. 

Concerning  this  method  of  killing  ducks,  the  late 
C.  So  Wescott,  of  Philadelphia,  wrote  many  years  ago : 

I  knew  of  but  two  or  three  amateurs  that  regularly 
indulged  in  this  sport,  and  had  always  looked  on  it  as  a 
murderous  method  of  wildfowling.  The  tales  of  my 
enthusiastic  friends,  however,  led  me  to  make  trial  of 
it,  and  I  engaged  the  services  of  one  of  the  most  noted 
professional  paddlers  w^ho  followed  the  river.  This 
was  in  the  month  of  March. 

Owing  to  the  great  amount  of  ice  that  had  formed 
that  year  on  the  tributaries  of  the  Delaware  and  the 
upper  river  during  the  winter,  and  the  sudden  breaking 
up,  I  believed  that  we  should  have  good  shooting,  for 
already  the  fowl  had  been  reported  from  below  as  hav- 
ing arrived.  The  continued  drifting  of  huge  masses 
and  fields  of  ice  at  each  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide,  and  the 
extensive  bodies  of  ice  collected  on  the  flats  of  the  New 
Jersey  and  Delaware  shores  from  Marcus  Hook  to 
Bombay  Hook,  made  ice  shooting  more  dangerous  that 
spring  than  it  had  been  for  many  years. 

The  skiffs  used  for  this  description  of  duck  shooting 
are  light,  double-end,  fifteen-foot,  clinker-built  boats, 
such  as  rail  are  shot  from,  but  are  somewhat  strength- 
ened by  being  sheathed  with  copper  where  the  surfaces 
are  presented  to  the  floating  ice,  and  are  also  provided 


458  DUCK   SHOOTING. 

with  narrow  runners  on  the  bottom ;  for  often  it  may 
become  necessary  to  haul  the  skiff  up  onto  the  ice,  and 
to  use  it  as  a  sledge  over  the  great  ice  fields  that  fre- 
quently surround  the  shooter.  From  stem  to  stern 
everything  is  painted  white,  and  a  netting  is  hung  along 
the  bows  for  four  or  five  feet  down  the  gunwales  on 
both  sides,  in  which  to  place  pieces  of  ice  to  form  a  blind 
for  the  shooter  as  he  is  being  paddled  on  a  flock  of 
ducks.  The  occupants  of  the  skiff  thus  hidden,  and 
clad  in  white  and  with  white  cap  covers,  can  hardly  be 
distinguished  from  the  drifting  ice.  A  reliable  compass 
is  always  carried,  for  the  frequent  fogs  that  hang  over 
the  river  often  obscure  the  shores.  A  strong  field  glass 
is  also  needed. 

Thus  fitted  out,  John  Brown  and  I  launched  our  skiff 
on  the  ice  at  a  point  on  the  river  near  Marcus  Hook, 
for  we  could  not  find  open  water  higher  up.  For  guns, 
we  had  a  single-barrel  four-gauge  piece,  from  which  at 
each  discharge  were  shot  three  or  four  ounces  of  No.  4 
or  5  shot ;  a  ten-pound  ten-gauge  gun,  and  a  seven  and 
a  half  pound  twelve-bore,  for  shooting  over  ''cripples.'* 

I  confess  that  I  felt  some  fear  of  the  hummocks  of 
ice  that  at  once  threatened  us,  as  soon  as  we  had  pushed 
our  boat  over  the  grounded  ice  and  reached  the  open 
water,  but  the  coolness  and  business-like  demeanor  of 
my  paddler  reassured  me,  and  I  placed  myself  at  the 
oars  under  his  direction,  while  he  faced  me  in  the  stern 
with  a  helping  paddle. 

Difficulties  soon  began  to  present  themselves,  as  the 
tide  ebbed  stronger.    Immense  fields  and  blocks  of  ice 


SHOOTING  IN   THE  ICE,  459 

came  tearing  and  grinding  up  against  the  grounded 
masses  on  the  flats,  and,  completely  shutting  up  the 
channel,  bore  down  on  us,  threatening  to  crush  our  frail 
craft  in  the  general  rush  and  onward  drift.  Fending 
off  the  dangerous  pieces  with  our  hooks,  we  finally 
hauled  the  skiff  up  on  a  huge  cake  and  felt  compara- 
tively safe  as  we  floated  down  the  river  toward  Penns- 
ville,  N.  J.,  looking  for  open  water  where  we  might  use 
our  oars. 

All  prospect  for  shooting  for  the  day  was  now  over, 
as  the  mush  ice  at  this  point  kept  the  ducks  away,  and 
it  became  apparent  that  the  great  body  of  fowl  were  to 
be  found  lower  down  the  river,  whither  in  the  morn- 
ing we  must  direct  our  course.  On  our  ice  island  we 
floated  down  the  stream  until  within  sight  of  Penns- 
ville  pier,  extending  into  the  river,  against  which  the 
ice  was  jamming,  and  where  there  was  every  probabil- 
ity that  we  would  be  crushed,  unless  we  sought  safety 
on  the  stationary  ice,  which  still  remained  on  the  shoal 
borders  of  the  stream.  An  opportunity  for  reaching 
this  ice  soon  presented  itself,  and  hooking  to  it,  we 
pulled  the  boat  safely  up,  and  parted  with  our  friendly 
cake,  which  went  on  to  its  destruction.  We  were  now 
a  full  mile  from  a  hotel,  which  we  could  only  reach  by 
sledging  the  skiff,  and  it  was  four  o'clock  before  we 
were  on  terra  firm  a. 

At  Pennsville  Hotel  we  found  three  other  duck- 
shooters,  with  their  men,  who  had  been  driven  in,  as  we 
had,  by  the  thick  ice. 

Next  morning  a  heavy  fog  hung  over  the  river,  add- 


46o  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ing  some  danger  to  the  shooting,  as  the  shore  could  not 
be  distinguished  seventy-five  yards  from  the  skiff. 
Brown  and  myself  were  the  only  two  that  started  out, 
and  we  first  took  careful  bearings  by  compass. 

A  mile  below  Pennsville,  the  ducks  could  be  heard 
talking,  as  they  drifted  on  the  ice  as  it  floated  down 
stream,  and  directing  our  course  by  the  sound,  I  was 
soon  paddled  up  within  range  of  a  good-sized  flock  as  I 
lay  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  waiting  the  signal  to  fire 
the  big  gun. 

I  dislike  to  recall  the  effect  of  that  shot,  or  to  remem- 
ber the  number  of  ducks  slaughtered.  It  is  enough  to 
say  that  I  killed  and  crippled  many,  and  was  obliged  to 
''over  shoot"  numerous  wounded  ones.  The  huge  gun 
had  boxed  me  soundly,  but  I  now  think  I  deserved  to 
have  been  kicked  into  the  water.  During  the  day  we 
found  sprigtails  and  mallards  in  abundance,  and  I  was 
taken  cleverly  to  them  by  my  skillful  paddler.  Perhaps 
then  I  thought  that  I  was  having  great  sport,  and  truly 
I  was  killing  many  birds,  but  I  have  never  since  been 
satisfied  with  the  skiff-load  of  ducks  we  took  to  shore, 
and  after  this  trip  never  repeated  my  ice-shooting  ex- 
perience. 

SAILING. 

Sailing  down  on  wnldfowl  can,  of  course,  only  be 
practiced  on  large  bodies  of  water,  and  in  many  States 
is  forbidden  by  law,  as  it  should  be  in  all. 

As  most  fowl  are  obliged  to  rise  from  the  water 


STUBBLE    SHOOTING.  461 

against  the  wind,  it  is  possible  sometimes  to  sail  down 
on  them  before  the  wind,  and  to  get  so  close  to  them  be- 
fore they  take  wing  that  when  they  rise  a  shot  is  of- 
fered. Most  birds  will  not  permit  so  near  an  approach 
as  this,  and  those  chiefly  killed  in  this  way  are  the  salt- 
water scoters  and  old-squaws.  At  the  same  time,  we 
have  seen  geese  and  swans  sailed  up  to,  and  occasionally 
killed.     But  this  is  quite  unusual. 

The  practice  is  a  very  evil  one,  since  it  amounts  to 
chasing  the  birds  about  continually,  and  after  a  certain 
amount  of  this  pursuit,  they  become  exceedingly  wild, 
and  are  likely  to  desert  the  waters  where  this  is  prac- 
ticed. To  my  mind,  there  is  no  sport  in  this,  and  it  de- 
serves mention  only  as  one  method  by  which  ducks  are 
killed.  In  certain  waters  of  New  York,  and  some  other 
States,  birds  are  approached  somewhat  in  this  way  by 
steam  or  naphtha  launches,  and  some  shooting  is  had; 
but  this  method  of  killing  ducks  is  open  to  the  same  ob- 
jections as  sailing,  and  ought  not  to  be  practiced  or  to 
be  permitted.  Any  method  of  shooting  ducks  which 
gives  them  the  impression  that  they  are  being  chased 
about  is  open  to  objection  and  should  not  be  practiced. 
The  results  can  never  justify  the  injury  certain  to  be 
done  to  the  shooting. 


STUBBLE  SHOOTING. 

In  portions  of  the  Northwest,  such  as  North  Dakota 
and  Manitoba,   and  in   fact  in  many  wheat-growing 


462  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

countries,  ducks  are  shot  in  the  stubble  fields.  In  the 
spring  of  the  year,  mallards,  pintails,  widgeons  and 
teal  very  commonly  resort  to  the  wheat  fields  to  feed. 
Indeed,  the  mallards  and  the  pintails  make  regular 
morning  and  evening  flights,  just  as  the  geese  do,  and, 
like  the  geese,  can  be  depended  on  to  come. 

In  the  autumn,  however,  the  shooting  in  the  stubble 
fields  depends  largely  on  the  season.  If  the  fall  has 
been  very  wet,  the  mallards  resort  to  the  wheat  fields 
by  thousands,  but  other  ducks  seldom  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance. If  the  fields  contain  pools  of  water,  the  birds 
will  come  in  regularly  in  the  morning  and  in  the  even- 
ing. On  the  other  hand,  if  the  fields  are  dry,  the  birds 
are  likely  to  feed  chiefly  at  night,  coming  into  the  fields 
just  at  dusk,  remaining  during  the  night,  and  return- 
ing in  the  early  morning  to  the  sloughs,  where  they 
spend  the  day.  If  very  much  shot  at  in  the  stubbles, 
they  will  give  up  feeding  during  the  day  and  resort  to 
the  fields  at  night  only.  Of  course,  now  and  then  a  bird 
may  come  in  the  afternoon,  but  nine-tenths  of  them 
come  in  at  night. 

In  shooting  ducks  in  the  stubble  the  same  methods 
are  used  as  in  shooting  geese,  but  the  ducks  decoy  much 
more  easily  than  geese. 

Blinds  are  of  course  required,  and  the  best  blind  is  a 
pit  such  as  geese  are  shot  from.  In  the  spring  of  the 
year,  however,  when  the  ground  is  frozen  to  a  con- 
siderable depth,  and  a  great  deal  of  labor  is  required  to 
make  a  pit,  other  blinds  are  often  prepared.  Thus  low 
places  in  the  field  will  have  the  stalks  of  pig  weeds  still 


STUBBLE    SHOOTING.  463 

Standing,  and  from  these  a  good  natural  blind  can  be 
made.  In  other  places  grain  will  have  lodged,  and,  if 
the  stalks  can  be  straightened  up,  this  makes  an  excel- 
lent blind.  Or,  again,  if  one  has  patience  to  do  it,  a 
straw  pile  may  be  made  in  a  part  of  the  field  where  the 
birds  are  feeding,  and  a  blind  be  made  in  that,  and  if 
not  used  for  a  few  days,  until  the  birds  become  accus- 
tomed to  the  straw,  capital  shooting  may  be  had  from  it. 

The  pit  is  the  best  blind.  It  can  be  made  to  look  so 
natural  that  the  birds  come  in  without  the  slightest 
suspicion,  and  it  is  very  much  more  roomy  and  com- 
fortable than  any  other  blind.  A  man  lying  flat  on  his 
back  in  a  shallow  furrow  has  really  only  a  limited 
range  for  his  gun,  and  whether  one  is  on  his  back,  his 
knees  or  his  face,  it  is  hard  to  get  up  and  put  the  gun 
on  the  birds  in  time. 

Mr.  Ned  Cavileer  describes  a  pit  which  he  uses.  It 
is  only  about  twelve  inches  deep,  long  enough  to  lie 
down  in,  and  is  lined  with  boards  to  keep  the  dirt  from 
falling  in.  The  boards  are  carefully  fitted  and  are  held 
in  place  by  hooks  and  staples,  or  sometimes  three  of 
the  boards  may  be  hinged  together,  so  as  to  close  up 
and  be  convenient  for  carrying.  There  are  two  boards, 
one  each  for  the  head  and  foot,  and  two  for  the  sides. 

On  the  stubbles,  mallards  seem  ready  to  decoy  to 
almost  anything.  Goose  decoys  are  better  than  ducks, 
because  they  are  larger  and  can  be  seen  at  a  great  dis- 
tance. Mallards  will  come  readily  to  snow-goose  de- 
coys. The  pintail  also  readily  comes  to  goose  decoys, 
and  no  others  are  needed. 


464  DUCK    SHOOTING. 


CALIFORNIA  MARSH  SHOOTING. 

Within  a  comparatively  short  distance  from  San 
Francisco  are  great  marshes  bordering  the  bay,  and 
there  are  others  at  the  junction  of  the  Sacramento  and 
the  San  Joaquin  rivers  with  Suisun  Bay.  These  are  of 
great  extent,  that  known  as  the  Suisun  Marsh  being 
about  twenty  miles  long  by  ten  wide,  and  a  great  re- 
sort for  snipe  and  wild  fowl.  This  marsh  was  long  ago 
taken  up  and  is  under  lease  to  shooting  clubs,  who  hold 
all  the  land. 

The  two  principal  forms  of  shooting  practiced  here 
are  pond  shooting,  over  decoys  from  a  blind,  and  a 
form  of  floating  practiced  by  sculling  a  boat  along  the 
narrow  sloughs  and  leads  which  thread  the  marsh  in 
every  direction. 

The  ponds  on  which  the  shooting  takes  place  vary  in 
size  from  small  mallard  holes  and  mud  puddles  to  con- 
siderable pools  covering  several  acres.  The  different 
ponds  are  connected  by  artificial  ditches  with  the  neigh- 
boring sloughs,  and  sometimes  the  ponds  are  connected 
in  the  same  way.  It  is  stated  that  in  such  ponds  grows 
the  vallisneria,  which  is  so  favorite  a  food  with  all  our 
ducks. 

To  such  ponds  resort  swans,  geese,  and  ducks  of 
many  kinds.  The  shooting  in  such  places  does  not 
especially  differ  from  such  shooting  elsewhere.  The 
gunner  builds  a  blind  of  reeds  and  grass,  and  either  sits 
in  the  marsh,  or,  if  that  is  too  soft,  he  may  sit  in  his 


IN   CALIFORNIA    MARSHES.  4^5 

boat.  Great  numbers  of  fowl  are  killed  annually,  for 
here  the  shooting  lasts  for  five  months  or  more.  It  is 
a  wintering  ground  where  the  fowl  come  to  stay,  and 
being  so  extensive,  it  is  possible  to  change  the  gunning 
grounds  frequently,  and  so  to  keep  the  shooting  good. 

In  the  narrow  leads  which  intersect  the  marsh,  scull- 
ing is  done  in  a  boat  of  peculiar  construction,  which 
has  been  evolved  by  the  gunners  on  these  marshes,  and 
is  built  only  by  them.  They  are  speedy  vessels  which 
can  be  propelled  very  swiftly  by  a  long,  flexible  sculling 
oar,  and  their  advance  is  absolutely  noiseless,  so  that 
the  skillful  sculler  can  approach  very  close  to  the  fowl. 
As  the  boats  are  built  for  use  by  a  single  man  only,  the 
gunner  sculls  and  shoots  as  well. 

Besides  the  fowl  shooting  to  be  had  here,  there  are 
many  patches  of  snipe  marsh,  over  which^  in  the  dull 
hours  of  the  day,  the  gunner  can  tramp  with  not  a 
little  benefit  to  his  bag. 

Some  notion  of  the  abundance  and  variety  of  wild- 
fowl found  in  the  California  marshes  may  be  had  from 
an  account  which  is  printed  here  substantially  as  it  ap- 
peared in  Forest  and  Stream  in  the  year  1882.  It 
treats  of  the  abundance  of  birds  in  the  marshes  near 
the  head  of  Suisun  Bay,  the  extreme  northern  end  of 
San  Francisco  Bay. 

Phantom  Pond,  though  within  fifty  miles  of  the  city 
of  San  Francisco,  had,  up  to  that  time,  been  shot  on 
by  very  few  men.  A  great  many  persons  knew  of  the 
existence  of  the  pond,  but  as  it  was  small,  and  was  situ- 
ated on  an  island  some  fifteen  miles  long  by  from  one  to 


466  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

five  miles  wide,  it  was  exceedingly  difficult  to  find  it  in 
this  marsh  unless  one  knew  just  where  to  go.  The 
writer  of  the  account  had  made  three  previous  efforts 
to  find  the  place,  and  was  only  now,  at  his  fourth  at- 
tempt, successful.  The  journey  to  the  marsh  was  made 
in  a  yacht,  and  the  island  was  reached  after  various 
adventures.  The  writer,  using  the  pseudonym  ''Duck 
Call,"  goes  on  to  say : 

About  two  o'clock  Friday  afternoon  we  came  to  an- 
chor, and  then  we  landed  with  three  boats — one  for  the 
pond,  if  we  should  find  it,  one  for  the  slough  which 
was  on  the  island,  and  one  to  ply  between  the  yacht  and 
the  shore.  Our  first  move  was  to  haul  two  boats  over 
a  narrow  strip  of  land  to  the  island  slough,  which  feat 
we  were  not  long  in  accomplishing,  and  were  soon  row- 
ing along  the  slough  with  our  boats  loaded  with  de- 
coys, ammunition,  etc. 

My  instructions  were  to  row  south  along  this 
slough  about  half  a  mile,  and  then  to  land  and  strike 
out  directly  east,  and  I  would  find  the  pond.  Now,  the 
next  question,  how  to  judge  a  half-mile  on  this  narrow, 
winding  slough,  which  had  a  generally  southerly  di- 
rection. We  kept  on  rowing  until  we  came  to  an  al- 
most impassable  obstacle  in  the  shape  of  an  immense 
pile  of  drift  tule,  wood,  etc.,  which  completely  blocked 
the  slough  from  bank  to  bank,  so  we  decided  that  we 
had  rowed  a  mile ;  at  least,  we  did  not  intend  to  carry 
over  or  around  the  mass  of  drift  and  stuff  before  us. 
So,  landing  on  the  east  bank,  we  tied  both  boats,  and 


IN    CALIFORNIA    MARSHES.  467 

after  walking  out  of  the  very  high  rushes  which  bor- 
dered the  slough,  we  shoved  an  oar  into  the  ground  and 
tied  a  handkerchief  to  it  to  mark  the  place  where  we 
had  left  the  boats.  This  was  a  very  necessary  opera- 
tion, as  we  would  otherwise  never  find  our  boats  again 
on  account  of  the  similarity  of  the  rushes.  Separating 
about  fifty  yards  apart,  we  started  to  look  for  what  I 
was  inclined  to  think  was  a  phantom  pond.  We  walked 
and  we  walked;  the  sun  was  hot;  the  ground  was 
mushy  and  the  tules  high ;  but  no  signs  of  a  pond.  Soon 
after  we  had  left  the  boats  we  had  come  to  another 
slough,  and  had  followed  it  to  the  right.  After  walk- 
ing along  the  bank  about  two  miles,  I  should  judge, 
and  meeting  other  sloughs,  we  retraced  our  steps,  tired 
and  disgusted,  and  we  had  lain  down  to  rest  just  at  the 
point  where  we  had  first  struck  the  slough  we  had  been 
following. 

We  had  hardly  been  lying  there  more  than  a  minute 
or  two  when  one  of  us  noticed  two  swans  flying  toward 
us — nothing  very  extraordinary,  as  we  had  seen  a 
great  number  of  swans  and  plenty  of  ducks  and  geese 
flying  around  us  all  day.  But  these  two  swans  passed 
us  about  three  hundred  yards  to  the  right,  and  then  set 
their  wings  and  soon  after  lit  about  five  hundred  yards 
away.  We  had  seen  a  great  many  birds  alighting  in 
this  same  spot,  but  there  always  seemed  to  be  a  slough 
separating  us  from  the  place,  and  our  instructions  were 
not  to  cross  any  slough  after  rowing  on  the  first  one. 
We  jumped  to  our  feet  and  both  seemed  struck  with  the 
same  idea,  at  the  same  instant,  and,  sure  enough,  we  had 


468  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

not  walked  more  than  two  hundred  yards  when  we 
commenced  to  hear  the  pecuHar  noise  which  a  large 
flock  of  wildfowl  make  while  feeding  in  a  pond: — that 
is,  a  continued  splash  from  their  unceasing  diving.  Our 
excitement  was  such  that  we  both  hurried  along,  and 
soon  a  beautiful  pond  stretched  out  before  us,  just  com- 
pletely covered  with  wildfowl  of  every  description. 
Instead  of  crawling  up  cautiously,  as  we  should  have 
done,  we  advanced  in  too  much  of  a  hurry,  and  let  go 
our  four  barrels  at  the  nearest  of  the  immense  flock. 
And  then  for  a  moment  what  a  noise,  a  rush,  splash, 
and  whirr  of  wings.  I  never  saw  its  like  in  my  life, 
and  hardly  ever  expect  to  see  it  again. 

We  had  disturbed  a  wildfowls'  sanctum.  It  was  a 
sight  to  make  a  sportsman — well,  I  was  going  to  say 
crazy,  as  we  were  so  excited  we  hardly  knew  which  way 
to  start.  The  ducks,  after  their  first  fright,  commenced 
to  come  back,  and  some  even  wheeled  after  flying  not 
more  than  fifty  or  a  hundred  yards,  and  we  shot  and 
shot  till  most  of  our  cartridges  had  gone,  as  we  had  left 
all  but  a  few  with  our  traps  and  decoys,  with  the  boats. 
We  then  stood  up  and  took  a  survey  of  our  situation. 
We  found  the  pond  to  be  nearly  circular,  and  150  yards 
in  diameter,  and  the  slough  which  we  had  been  follow- 
ing ran  into  the  pond,  so  if  we  had  followed  it  to  the 
left  instead  of  to  the  right  we  would  have  soon  come  to 
the  pond. 

Our  flag  and  boats  were  in  a  direct  line  about  350 
or  400  yards  from  us,  so  taking  off  our  coats,  and  leav- 
ing our  guns  at  the  pond,  we  started  for  the  boats  to 


IN    CALIFORNIA    MARSHES.  469 

drag  the  pond  boat,  full  of  decoys,  to  the  pond.  We 
were  not  long  in  doing  this,  as  we  were  in  a  hurry  to 
get  back  to  the  pond,  and  as  the  sun  was  approaching 
the  western  horizon  we  were  all  fixed  in  our  separate 
blinds,  with  the  decoys  out,  and  shooting  as  fast  as  we 
could  wish. 

It  being  a  moonlight  night,  we  stayed  at  the  pond 
until  about  half-past  seven,  and  then  started  back  to 
the  yacht,  having  first  hauled  the  pond  boat  out  of  sight 
in  the  tule.  Then,  after  getting  our  game  together,  we 
looked  at  it,  and  then  at  each  other,  and  then  came  the 
question,  how  were  we  ever  to  get  that  load  of  game  to 
the  yacht.  Among  the  pile  were  five  immense  Cana- 
dian geese,  about  three  of  which  are  all  one  man 
wishes  to  carry.  We  also  had  about  one  dozen  white 
geese,  a  swan,  and  ducks,  I  was  going  to  say  innumer- 
able. Well,  we  compromised.  We  first  drew  all  the 
birds,  which  considerably  lightened  the  load,  and  then 
each  took  a  sack,  which  the  decoys  had  been  in,  and 
filled  them  with  the  best  ducks;  the  rest,  with  all  our 
traps,  except  our  guns  and  empty  cartridge  bags,  we 
stowed  in  the  boat  and  covered  with  rushes  for  the  next 
day.  We  each  then  shouldered  his  sack  and  started  for 
our  white  flag,  which  we  soon  reached,  and  then,  after 
a  short  row,  arrived  at  the  narrow  strip  of  land  which 
separated  us  from  the  yacht.  We  were  soon  aboard, 
and  after  supper,  to  which  we  did  ample  justice,  we 
lost  no  time  getting  to  bed,  so  as  to  be  up  and  off  long 
before  daylight. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  hardly  been  asleep  more 


470  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

than  ten  minutes  when  the  whirr  of  the  alarm  clock 
told  us  that  it  was  time  to  turn  out.  We  had  to 
go  home  during  the  next  night,  so  we  decided  to  make 
one  long  hunt  from  early  dawn  to  late  at  night.  Just 
before  sitting  down  to  breakfast  I  went  on  deck,  and 
found  it  very  cold.  A  heavy,  thick  fog  had  settled 
down  on  everything,  dampening  all  but  our  spirits. 
After  breakfast  we  took  every  cartridge  we  could  get 
hold  of,  and  started  for  the  grounds,  with  instructions 
to  one  of  the  men  to  join  us  about  four  in  the  afternoon 
and  help  us  out  with  some  of  the  game.  The  boat  was 
found  in  the  slough  as  we  had  left  it  the  night  before, 
and  after  rowing  along  till  we  came  to  our  landing,  we 
tied  our  boat  and  started  for  the  pond.  The  fog  was 
so  thick  that  we  could  get  no  bearings,  and  having  no 
compass,  the  first  thing  we  knew  we  were  lost.  We 
walked  first  north,  and  then  south,  and  then  east,  and 
found  no  pond.  There  was  nothing  but  high  rushes 
and  mudholes  and  sloughs.  We  tried  to  retrace  our 
steps,  but  got  more  bewildered  than  before,  and  at 
about  eleven  o'clock  we  sat  down  and  waited  for  the 
fog  to  lift.  At  twelve  o'clock  the  fog  rolled  away,  and 
we  found  that  we  had  been  completely  turned  around 
and  evidently  been  wandering  in  a  circle,  as  we  found 
ourselves  within  two  hundred  yards  of  our  flag.  We 
immediately  struck  out  for  the  pond,  which  we  soon 
reached,  very  tired  from  carrying  so  many  cartridges, 
but  nevertheless  full  of  spirits  and  ready  for  the  rest  of 
the  day's  hunt.  We  scared  quite  a  goodly  lot  of  ducks 
off  the  pond  on  our  appearance,  and  were  soon  en- 


IN    CALIFORNIA    MARSHES.  47^ 

sconced  in  our  blinds,  banging  away  at  a  great  rate,  as 
the  ducks  and  geese  came  in  very  lively. 

We  shot  all  the  afternoon,  and  then,  it  being  moon- 
light, though  very  cloudy,  we  shot  till  late  at  night, 
nearly  ten  o'clock.  The  Canada  geese  did  not  come  in 
till  late,  but  when  they  did  come,  they  came  with  a 
vengeance.  You  could  jump  up  and  nearly  hit  them 
with  a  gun.  Our  man  joined  us  about  dusk  and  started 
to  help  us  out  with  our  game.  We  stopped  shooting  as 
soon  as  our  cartridges  gave  out  and  then  proceeded  to 
get  things  together.  We  gathered  in  the  decoys,  had 
the  game  drawn  and  packed  in  the  pond  boat  with  the 
rest  of  the  traps,  which  filled  the  boat  to  more  than  over- 
flowing. And  I  wondered,  when  I  looked  at  that  load, 
how  we  were  going  to  get  it  to  the  yacht.  Two  of  us 
took  hold  of  the  rope  at  the  bow  and  the  other  shoved, 
and  by  dint  of  pulling  and  shoving  we  finally,  after 
nearly  two  hours'  work,  got  the  loaded  boat  to  the 
slough,  where  we  transferred  some  of  the  birds  to  the 
other  boat,  and,  after  launching  it,  were,  after  another 
hour's  work,  aboard  our  yacht,  with  everything  stowed 
away.  We  were  not  long  in  getting  asleep,  and  the  or- 
ders were  that  we  were  to  be  aroused  about  three  a.  m., 
as  soon  as  the  tide  changed,  and  get  under  way. 

The  next  thing  I  knew  I  suddenly  awoke  with  the 
sun  streaming  in  the  cabin  skylight,  and  on  looking  out 
the  porthole  above  my  berth  I  was  very  much  surprised 
to  see  the  pile  of  a  wharf  obstructing  my  view.  In  fact 
the  two  men  had  brought  the  yacht  down  during  the 
night,  and  we  two  hunters,  being  so  tired,  had  slept 


472  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

through  the  whole  voyage,  they  having  made  the  run 
down  in  about  six  hours.  It  was  eight  o'clock  in  the 
morning  when  I  awoke,  and  we  had  just  landed.  So  we 
proceeded  immediately  to  clean  up  and  get  ready  for 
the  train,  which  passed  in  the  afternoon.  We  made 
presents  of  game  to  all  those  we  knew  at  this  town,  and 
packed  the  rest  in  sacks  for  our  city  home,  where,  upon 
our  arrival,  we  gave  to  all  our  own  friends  around. 
And  we  had  geese,  duck  and  swan  cooked  in  every  style 
for  the  next  week. 

I  will  try  and  remember  a  few  figures.  I  know  we 
got  nineteen  Canada  honkers,  tremendous  fellows; 
about  two  dozen  white  geese,  a  dozen  ordinary  gray 
geese,  one  swan,  and  I  will  not  state  how  many  ducks, 
as  I  suppose  I  might  shock  my  Eastern  friends,  who 
have,  I  suspect,  already  put  me  down  a  black  mark  for 
shooting  at  night. 

I  have  visited  the  "Phantom  Pond"  several  times 
since,  but  never  had  such  a  hunt  and  such  hard  work  at 
the  same  time.  But  the  work  only  made  the  hunt  more 
agreeable,  and  the  game  more  acceptable  when  I  got  it. 


CHESAPEAKE  BAY  DUCK  SHOOTING. 

The  Chesapeake  Bay  has  long  been  famous  as  a 
resort  for  duck  shooters.  It  is  told  that  in  New 
England,  the  employer  to  whom  an  apprentice  was  in- 
dentured agreed  as  a  part  of  the  contract  that  the  ap- 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DUCKING.  473 

prentice  should  not  be  obliged  to  eat  salmon  more  than 
twice  a  week,  and  in  the  same  way,  that  in  early  days 
along  the  shores  of  the  Chesapeake,  the  slave-owners 
who  hired  out  their  slaves  to  work  for  others  stipulated 
in  their  contracts  that  these  slaves  should  not  be  obliged 
to  eat  canvas-back  ducks  more  than  twice  a  week. 
Copies  of  such  contracts  are  declared  to  be  still  in  exist- 
ence in  some  of  the  Maryland  counties. 

This  great  body  of  water,  more  than  200  miles 
long,  and  from  four  to  forty  miles  in  width,  with  its  in- 
numerable bays,  sounds,  broad  waters  and  sluggish 
rivers,  has  unquestionably  sheltered  more  wildfowl 
than  any  other  body  of  water  in  the  country,  and  has 
been  the  greatest  ducking  ground  that  America  has 
known.  To  write  a  history  of  Chesapeake  Bay  duck 
shooting  would  require  a  volume  by  itself,  and  here 
only  the  briefest  reference  can  be  made  to  a  few  of  the 
more  celebrated  localities. 

For  many  years  Baltimore  was  the  centre  of  the  duck- 
shooting  territory,  but  with  the  growth  and  expansion 
of  that  city  its  fame  as  a  duck-shooting  centre  has  been 
forgotten,  and  of  late  years  the  little  town  of  Havre  de 
Grace  has  become  perhaps  the  best  known  of  the  gun- 
ning localities,  chiefly  because  it  is  the  point  from 
which  most  battery  gunners  start.  The  Chesapeake 
Bay  is  historic  ground  for  the  wildfowl,  and  although 
its  glories  as  a  duck-shooting  locality  have  in  a  large 
measure  departed,  and  the  gunning  has  become  a  mem- 
ory rather  than  a  reality,  it  is  worth  while,  neverthe- 
less, to  speak  briefly  of  some  matters  connected  with 


474  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

this  shooting  and  of  some  of  its  most  famous  ducking 
shores.  Of  these,  there  were  four  which  perhaps  had  a 
fame  greater  than  any  of  the  others  near  Baltimore. 
These  were  Carroll's  Island,  Spesutia  Island,  Maxwell's 
Point  and  Benjies.  On  all  these  shores  decoy  shooting 
from  blinds  was  practiced,  and  in  the  olden  times  with 
great  success.  Even  at  present  not  a  few  ducks  are 
occasionally  killed  here.  Spesutia  Island  is  owned  by 
a  club  of  New  York  men,  and  still  affords  excellent 
blackhead  and  redhead  shooting,  although  compara- 
tively few  canvas-backs  are  killed.  At  Maxwell's  Point, 
Carroll's  Island  and  Benjies,  there  is  still  often  good 
shooting,  and  when  the  wind  is  right  the  flight  from 
Standing  Cove  to  Benjies  across  the  landward  side  of 
Carroll's  Island  is  often  very  good. 

In  old  times  in  the  waters  near  the  head  of  the  Chesa- 
peake Bay  many  thousands  of  ducks  were  regularly 
killed  each  season.  Almost  every  foot  of  available  land 
bordering  on  the  waters  where  the  ducks  feed  was 
either  in  possession  of  some  sportsman,  who  used  it  for 
his  own  shooting,  or  was  owned  by  a  ducking  club. 
Thousands  of  dollars  have  been  spent  on  many  of  the 
shores,  and  the  club  houses  are  as  comfortable  as  money 
can  make  them.  Many  of  them,  however,  no  longer 
afford  much  shooting.  The  ducks  are  becoming  more 
scarce  yearly.  There  is  still,  however,  a  supply  that  at 
times  and  in  certain  places  makes  the  sport  good,  and 
it  is  enjoyed  by  thousands  of  Baltimoreans  every 
season. 

Many  who  cannot  get  shores  to  their  liking  on  the 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DUCKING,  A^S 

rivers  at  the  head  go  lower  down  the  bay  for  their 
shooting.  There  has  been  much  complaint  among  the 
gunners  that  the  feeding  grounds  in  the  rivers — espe- 
cially those  in  the  upper  parts  of  the  streams — are  often 
covered  with  mud  brought  down  by  floods,  and  that 
the  ducks  can  be  found  only  at  the  mouths  of  the  rivers 
or  on  the  bay.  The  fact  seems  to  be  that  in  the  early 
autumn  the  ducks  are  usually  found  at  the  mouths  of 
the  rivers  and  in  the  wider  waters,  but  in  the  spring, 
after  the  breaking  up  of  the  ice,  the  ducks  work  up  the 
streams,  and  commonly  bed  in  the  streams  just  before 
they  go  off  to  the  North.  It  may  well  enough  be 
imagined  that  they  have  used  up  most  of  the  grass  and 
food  from  the  open  waters  during  autumn  and  winter, 
and  that  as  soon  as  the  streams  are  accessible  they  work 
up  them  in  search  of  food.  In  the  rivers  emptying 
into  the  upper  part  of  the  bay  the  ducks  are  continually 
harassed,  for  on  both  shores  are  skirmish  lines  of  gun- 
ners trying  to  kill  them.  On  all  these  streams  long 
blinds  are  built  out  from  every  point  running  into  the 
river,  so  that,  to  escape  being  shot  at,  a  bird  would  be 
obliged  to  follow  the  windings  of  the  channel. 

The  Carroll's  Island  Club  occupies  what  was  in  old 
times  perhaps  the  most  celebrated  ducking  ground  on 
Chesapeake  Bay,  Carroll's  Island  is  bounded  by  the 
Chesapeake  Bay,  and  the  Seneca,  Saltpeter  and  Gun- 
powder rivers.  It  is  fourteen  miles  from  Baltimore, 
and  has  an  area  of  about  twelve  hundred  acres.  Up 
to  about  1820  it  had  been  owned  for  about  one  hun- 
dred years  by  the  Carroll  family,  but  in  1822  it  was 


476  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

leased  by  the  widow  of  the  late  Commodore  Spence,  of 
the  United  States  Navy.  This  lease,  which  was  per- 
petual, was  later,  by  order  of  court,  transferred  to 
James  Moir,  a  Scotchman,  for  annual  rent  of  less  than 
seven  hundred  dollars.  The  lease  was  afterward  pur- 
chased by  Colonel  William  Slater,  and  was  held  by 
him  and  by  his  widow  and  her  estate  until  about  1880, 
when  the  present  club  took  hold  of  it. 

There  were  shooting  and  a  club  at  Carroll's  Island  as 
long  ago  as  1830.  This  continued  under  Colonel  Sla- 
ter, and  in  1856  the  Carroll's  Island  Company  was  in- 
corporated, with  Wm.  Slater,  C.  Beatty  Graf,  Wm.  P. 
Lightner,  Robert  Purveance,  Jr.,  Geo.  Hugh  Graf, 
Wm.  F.  Giles  and  Geo.  G.  Brewer  as  incorporators. 

The  membership  of  the  present  club  is  made  up  of 
men  from  New  York,  Philadelphia  and  Baltimore. 

When  the  new  club  took  possession  of  Carroll's 
Island  it  rebuilt  the  club  house,  w^hich  is  large  and  com- 
fortable. The  ammunition  house  is  at  a  distance  from 
the  club  house ;  it  is  lighted  by  a  reflector  from  outside, 
and  the  usual  precautions  against  fire  and  lights  which 
are  employed  in  all  modern  clubs  have  long  been  in 
practice  there. 

In  old  times  this  was  the  heart  of  the  best  shooting 
in  Chesapeake  Bay.  All  the  shooting  was  done  from 
the  shore,  much  of  it  from  blinds  along  the  marsh,  and 
over  decoys;  yet  often  for  a  time  there  was  no  decoy 
shooting,  and  all  ducks  secured  were  killed  from  the 
bar  which  runs  out  into  the  Gunpowder  River  from 
the  island.     The  blinds  from  which  the  shooting  was 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DUCKING.  A77 

done  were  boxes  sunk  in  the  marsh,  each  furnished 
with  a  pump  for  the  removal  of  any  water  which  leaked 
into  the  box,  and  provided  with  seats,  and  with  shelves 
in  front,  on  which. to  rest  ammunition. 

The  shooting  on  the  bar  was  at  ducks  flying  from 
the  bay  to  the  Gunpowder  River,  and  originally  was 
done  from  blinds  in  the  rushes  on  the  bar.  Later,  boxes 
were  sunk  in  the  bar,  from  which  the  men  did  their 
shooting.  These  boxes  were  about  fifty  yards  apart. 
Often  when  the  ducks  flew  well  there  was  great  shoot- 
ing here,  which  in  its  character  was  precisely  like  the 
pass  shooting,  elsewhere  described.  The  birds  came 
overhead,  at  greater  or  less  height,  according  to  the 
weather,  and  were  shot  as  they  flew  over.  As  is  else- 
where stated,  the  shooting  at  these  overhead  birds, 
which  began  with  comparatively  small  guns,  came  at 
last  to  be  done  with  very  heavy  No.  4  gauge  weapons, 
in  which  enormous  charges  of  No.  2  and  No.  3  shot 
were  used.  Sometimes  it  happened  that  a  little  bunch 
of  birds,  flying  up  and  down'^  the  stream,  as  they  rose 
and  bunched  up  to  cross  the  bar,  would  be  struck  just 
right  by  one  of  these  enormous  loads  of  shot,  and  half 
of  them  would  be  killed,  and  the  remainder,  hard  hit, 
would  come  to  the  water  several  hundred  yards  off,  and 
there  very  likely  be  lost. 

That  was  the  uncomfortable  feature  of  this  bar 
shooting  at  Carroll's  Island  and  at  Benjies.  While  a 
certain  proportion  of  birds  hit,  fell  at  once  either  on  the 
bar  or  so  near  it  that  they  could  be  recovered  by  the 
dogs  without  trouble,  very  many  others  came  down  to 


47^  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  water  a  long  way  off,  and  if  it  were  rough,  or  if 
there  were  a  fog,  could  not  be  retrieved. 

Old  members  of  the  club  will  remember  an  incident 
which  took  place  many  years  ago,  during  a  thick  fog, 
when  two  or  three  birds  were  knocked  down  in  the 
water,  and  the  dogs,  notwithstanding  the  calls  of  their 
owners,  rushed  in  to  retrieve  them.  They  were  soon 
lost  sight  of  in  the  fog,  and  swam  about  after  the  ducks 
among  the  ice,  which  was  running.  Soon  their  cries 
showed  the  men  on  shore  that  the  dogs  were  lost,  and 
two  of  the  boatmen  started  out  in  a  light  boat  to  re- 
cover them.  In  a  few  moments  they  were  out  of  sight, 
and  very  soon  their  shouts  and  calls  told  that  they,  too, 
had  lost  all  sense  of  direction  and  knew  not  which  way 
to  row.  The  feelings  of  the  men  standing  on  the  shore, 
listening  to  the  whinings  of  the  dogs  and  the  calls  of 
the  lost  men,  can  be  imagined  better  than  described. 
The  men  were  subsequently  picked  up  and  brought  to 
shore  by  an  old  lighthouse  keeper,  who  heard  their  cries, 
and  starting  out  with  a  compass,  found  them  and 
brought  them  both  in;  but  the  men  standing  on 
the  beach  heard  the  dogs'  cries  become  fainter  and 
fainter,  until  at  last  they  ceased,  for  the  dogs  were 
drowned. 

Of  course,  as  all  clubs  do,  the  Carroll's  Island  Club 
was  constantly  trying  to  improve  its  shooting,  and  at 
one  time  it  built  out  into  Hawk  Cove  a  bridgeway,  run- 
ning out  seventy-five  yards  to  a  box  built  over  the 
water.  It  was  hoped  that  this  box  would  be  so  near  the 
fly  way  of  the  ducks  that  they  would  come  at  once  to 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DUCKING.  479 

the  decoys  set  out  near  it,  but  for  several  years  after  it 
was  built  no  ducks  at  all  came  into  the  cove,  which 
formerly  had  been  a  great  resort  for  them,  and  the  con- 
struction was  regarded  as  an  absolute  failure. 

The  birds  were  little  disturbed  about  Carroll's  Island 
except  by  the  shooting  on  the  shore.  Batteries  were 
not  allowed  there,  and  in  autumn  and  winter  no  boats. 
In  the  spring,  however,  about  the  middle  of  March,  and 
from  that  to  the  first  of  April,  the  fishermen  were  per- 
mitted to  draw  their  nets.  When  Mrs.  Slater  owned 
the  island  and  rented  the  shooting,  there  was  much  an- 
noyance to  the  gunners  from  these  fishermen,  but  when 
the  club  purchased  the  land  this  was  stopped.  Never- 
theless, the  fishing  rights,  rented  for  the  spring  only, 
brought  the  club  an  income  of  $300  a  year. 

In  the  old  days  on  the  bar,  disputes — very  entertain- 
ing to  all  except  the  disputants — sometimes  occurred 
as  to  the  ownership  of  ducks  at  which  more  than  one 
man  had  shot.  As  the  boxes  were  not  very  far  apart, 
it  might  often  happen  that  a  duck  flying  between  two 
of  them  would  be  shot  at  by  two  persons,  and  if  it  fell, 
each  man  would  promptly  claim  it  as  his  duck,  and  the 
debates  about  the  ownership  were  often  very  earnest. 
After  a  while  it  came  to  be  more  or  less  of  a  proverb 
that  at  Carroll's  Island  no  one  could  be  a  successful 
duck-shooter  unless  he  were  also  a  good  claimer.  Sto- 
ries are  told  of  venerable  men,  occupying  high  positions 
in  the  business  or  professional  world,  who  almost  came 
to  blows  over  birds  that  had  been  killed,  and  who  de- 
liberately sat  down  side  by  side  and  laboriously  plucked 


48o  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  fowl  in  dispute  in  order  to  determine — according  to 
the  club  rule — on  which  side  it  had  been  shot. 

Occasionally,  when  ducks  were  discovered  bedded 
close  to  the  shore,  toling  was  practiced.  It  could  be 
done  only  at  such  times.  It  is  thus  described  to  me  by 
my  friend,  Mr.  Wm.  Trotter : 

'The  darky  came  up  and  told  us  that  he  had  found 
quite  a  bed  of  birds  sitting  near  the  shore,  and  that  he 
thought  we  could  get  a  tole  on  them.  Two  of  us  went 
with  him,  and  after  getting  as  near  the  shore  as  we 
could,  crept  up  on  our  hands  and  knees  until  we  were 
close  to  it.  We  could  see  a  bed  of  two  or  three  hun- 
dred ducks,  blackheads,  redheads  and  widgeons,  feed- 
ing about  a  hundred  yards  off  the  shore.  The  darky 
had  with  him  a  little  white  poodle  dog,  that  followed 
close  at  his  heels,  and  as  we  came  along  we  had  filled 
the  pockets  of  our  shooting-coats  with  small  sticks. 
After  we  had  crept  up  close  to  the  shore,  the  darky 
threw  a  stick  off  to  one  side,  on  the  beach,  and  the  dog 
raced  after  it,  and  took  it  up  in  his  mouth  and  shook  it 
and  played  with  it  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then  stood 
still  and  looked  back  toward  us,  and  the  darky  threw 
another  stick  up  the  beach,  and  the  dog  raced  up  along 
to  it,  and  played  with  that  for  a  little  while,  when  his 
owner  threw  a  third  stick.  This  was  kept  up  for  some 
little  time,  the  dog  running  backward  and  forward 
along  the  beach.  The  blackheads  almost  at  once  no- 
ticed the  dog,  and  began  to  swim  toward  shore  to  see 
what  it  was.  The  redheads  also  seemed  interested,  and 
kept  with  the  blackheads,  and  the  remaining  ducks  fol- 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DUCKING.  481 

lowed,  not  apparently  because  they  cared  for  the  dog, 
but  in  order  to  keep  with  the  bunch.  They  came  up 
quite  close  to  the  shore,  and  when  they  were  near 
enough  we  fired  three  barrels  into  them  on  the  water, 
and  three  more  as  they  rose,  and  knocked  down  a  lot  of 
them.  We  loaded  as  fast  as  we  could,  and  the  darky 
ran  and  jumped  into  a  boat,  and  pushing  off,  we  began 
to  shoot  over  the  cripples,  and  gathered  from  those  six 
shots  just  forty-seven  birds.  That  is  the  biggest  tole  I 
ever  saw  made.  It  was  common  enough  to  get  ten  or 
twelve,  or  even  sometimes  twenty  or  twenty-five  birds 
in  a  tole,  but  any  larger  number  was  unusual." 

The  blackheads  and  redheads  are  regarded  as  the 
most  inquisitive  of  all  the  ducks.  It  is  doubted  whether 
widgeons  could  be  toled  at  all ;  yet  on  the  Connecticut 
shore  I  have  heard  of  old-squaws  responding  to  this 
lure. 

While  toling  used  to  be  practiced  quite  extensively 
from  these  shores,  it  has  not  been  in  favor  for  many 
years,  and  naturally  so,  since  it  is  so  very  destructive. 
Even  those  who  for  any  reason  may  have  occasionally 
taken  part  in  it  say  that  they  will  not  repeat  it,  and  that 
a  duck  or  two  killed  on  the  wing,  either  flying  by  or 
coming  up  to  decoys,  give  more  satisfaction  to  the  man 
making  the  shot  than  a  dozen  or  twenty  shot  at  a  tole. 

For  many  years  prior  to  1883,  night  shooting  with 
big  guns  was  practiced  in  the  neighborhood  of  Havre 
de  Grace  and  Baltimore  by  a  gang  of  poachers,  against 
whom  the  processes  of  the  law  were  invoked  in  vain. 
These  men  went  out  at  night  in  skiffs,  in  the  bow  of 


482  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

which  were  mounted  these  great  guns,  and  slaughtered 
the  ducks  by  thousands  on  their  roosting  beds. 

These  guns,  which  were  commonly  known  as  ''night 
guns,"  are  huge  single-barrel  shotguns,  patterned  after 
an  ordinary  shotgun,  but  weighing  sometimes  150 
pounds,  with  a  bore  considerably  over  an  inch  in  diam- 
eter. Such  a  gun  was  mounted  on  a  pivot  in  the  bow 
of  a  small  skiff,  to  be  paddled  through  the  water,  or 
which  might  be  mounted  on  runners  and  pushed  over 
the  ice.  The  stock  of  the  gun  was  braced  against  a 
block  in  the  boat,  and  the  recoil  of  the  discharge  often 
sent  the  boat  back  a  long  way  through  the  water.  The 
gun  was  usually  painted  the  same  color  as  the  boat, 
some  dull,  inconspicuous  tint.  For  many  years  there 
have  been  laws  prohibiting  the  killing  of  ducks  by  this 
means,  and  many  efforts  had  been  made  to  convict  the 
persons  who  were  known  to  practice  this  illegal  gun- 
ning. For  this  reason,  each  gun  was  so  mounted  in  its 
boat  that  it  could  be  easily  detached  from  its  fittings, 
and  each  had  a  long  string  attached  to  it,  running  to  a 
buoy,  so  that  in  case  of  an  alarm  the  arm  could  be 
pitched  overboard,  and  the  owner  paddle  away,  to  re- 
turn for  his  property  at  a  later  day. 

The  number  of  birds  killed  by  the  discharge  of  one 
of  these  guns  was,  of  course,  very  great.  The  common 
load  was  from  a  quarter  to  a  third  of  a  pound  of  powder 
and  one  and  a  half  to  two  pounds  of  shot.  The  gunner 
paddled  up  quietly  to  the  raft  of  sleeping  canvas-backs, 
adjusted  his  gun  to  suit  himself  and  discharged  it, 
sometimes  gathering  from  75  to  100 ducks  as  the  result. 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DUCKING.  483 

For  years  the  efforts  of  the  members  of  the  gunning 
clubs  around  the  Susquehanna,  Gunpowder,  Bush  and 
Back  rivers,  to  put  an  end  to  this  illegal  shooting,  were 
fruitless.  The  men  practicing  this  gunning  were  politi- 
cally influential,  and  it  was  impossible  to  secure  evi- 
dence against  them  which  would  satisfy  the  magistrate 
who  had  charge  of  the  case.  However,  in  the  winter  of 
1881-82,  more  stringent  laws  were  passed,  and  one  pro- 
vision allowed  persons  charged  with  this  offence  to  be 
taken  before  a  magistrate  either  in  Harford  or  Balti- 
more County,  the  latter  county  being  one  in  which  they 
were  without  the  political  influence  which  they  had  in 
Harford. 

The  matter  was  put  in  charge  of  Mr.  John  E. 
Semmes,  of  Baltimore.  He  engaged  skillful  detectives, 
and  after  considerable  work  a  force  of  officers  in  charge 
of  Mr.  Semmes  raided  Spesutia  Island,  which  was  then 
the  headquarters  of  the  gang.  The  poachers,  however, 
were  found  armed  and  entrenched,  and  threatened  to 
fight  for  their  liberty.  .At  last,  however,  they  were  per- 
suaded to  surrender,  and  after  being  arrested  were  in- 
formed that  they  would  be  tried  in  Baltimore.  When 
they  learned  this  the  poachers  were  much  alarmed,  and 
Mr.  Semmes  proposed  a  compromise,  offering  to  allow 
them  to  be  taken  before  a  Harford  County  magistrate 
if  they  would  give  up  their  big  guns.  The  men  begged 
and  implored  and  wept  and  swore  over  parting  with 
their  guns,  but  at  last  they  agreed  to  do  so.  Six  of  the 
big  guns  were  captured,  and  were  subsequently  broken 
up  in  a  junk-shop.     One  of  them  was  a  particularly 


484  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

beautiful  weapon,  weighing  160  pounds,  with  a  bore  of 
if  inches,  and  a  lock  of  the  finest  and  most  delicate 
construction.  Some  of  these  guns  are  shown  on  an- 
other page. 

Prior  to  1880,  Havre  de  Grace  was  the  headquarters 
of  the  sink-boat  or  battery  shooters  of  Chesapeake  Bay, 
and  it  is  still  the  point  from  which  most  of  them  start 
out.  At  that  time  there  were  licensed,  at  a  fee  of  $20 
each,  about  forty  professional  battery  outfits.  These 
consisted  each  of  a  small  sailing  craft  from  25  to  50  feet 
long,  a  small  flat-bottomed  rowboat  or  skiff,  a  sink-box 
or  battery,  and  from  300  to  500  decoys.  To  work  these 
outfits,  three  men  are  required.  At  that  time,  shooting 
was  allowed  only  on  three  days  in  the  week  after  the 
first  of  November — Mondays,  Wednesdays  and  Fri- 
days. The  batteries  were  not  allowed  to  go  upon  the 
shooting  ground  before  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
No  shooting  could  be  done  until  one  hour  before  sun- 
rise, and  it  must  cease  one-half  hour  after  sunset.  Sink- 
boxes  were  not  allowed  to  be  out  within  one-half  mile 
of  the  shore. 

There  was  great  competition  for  the  best  positions, 
and  it  was  the  practice  of  many  of  these  craft  to  an- 
chor near  the  line  within  one-half  mile  of  the  shore,  and 
immediately  after  three  o'clock  to  proceed  to  the 
ground  and  to  put  out  their  decoys  as  soon  as  they  could 
see  to  do  so.  This  operation  takes  a  full  hour,  and  by 
the  time  the  outfit  was  in  position  it  was  late  enough  to 
begin  to  shoot.  Of  course,  the  earlier  hours  of  the  day 
are  by  far  the  best. 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY   DUCKING,  485 

The  terms  charged  by  gunners  in  those  days  for  com- 
plete outfit  services  of  the  men  and  meals  were  usually 
from  $35  to  $40  per  day. 

Beside  the  ordinary  battery  or  sink-boat  shooting, 
practiced  here  with  a  great  number  of  decoys,  ordinary 
batteaux  or  gunning  skiffs  are  used.  These  are  called 
sneak-boats.  They  are  painted  white,  and  have  a  cur- 
tain or  shield  of  canvas  running  from  bow  to  mid- 
ships. The  decoys  are  thrown  out  and  the  boat  moves 
off  to  a  sufficient  distance,  so  that  it  does  not  alarm  the 
birds  flying  about.  They  are  thus  likely  to  alight 
among  the  decoys,  and  when  they  do  so,  the  sneak-boat 
is  slowly  and  carefully  sculled  forward  until  close  to  the 
decoys.  The  gunner  then  rises  to  his  knees,  and  shoot- 
ing over  the  canvas  curtain,  kills  his  ducks.  Usually 
in  such  a  sneak-boat  two  double-barreled  guns  are  used. 

In  the  old  times  on  the  eastern  shore  of  Chesapeake 
Bay,  the  Sassafras  River  probably  marked  the  begin- 
ning of  the  shooting,  while  Chester  River,  in  almost  its 
entire  length,  Kent  Island  Narrows,  Eastern  Bay  and 
Miles  River,  Poplar  Island,  the  large  body  of  water  in- 
cluded in  the  Choptank  River  and  its  tributaries,  the 
Little  Choptank,  Tar  Bay,  Hooper  Straits,  Fishing 
Bay,  Holland  Strait,  all  of  the  large  body  of  water  in- 
cluded in  Tangier  and  Pocomoke  Sound,  and  so  on 
down  the  bay,  were  all  teeming  with  wildfowl  and  af- 
forded fine  shooting.  On  the  western  side  of  the  bay 
it  was  the  i^ame  from  the  localities  named  above,  near 
Baltimore  clear  to  the  James  River.     In  Eastern  and 


486  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

in  Hogg  Bay  one  might  see  in  old  times  redheads — es- 
pecially in  February  and  March — rafted  in  bodies  miles 
in  extent,  probably  not  less  than  50,000  ducks  in  one 
body. 

The  same  thing  might  be  seen  about  Poplar  Isl- 
and Narrows  and  in  the  Choptank  River.  We  are 
told  that  at  Lou's  Point  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  on 
favorable  days  to  have  an  ox-cart  sent  to  the  point  to 
haul  up  the  ducks  of  the  shooters  that  congregated 
there. 

In  modern  times — that  is  to  say,  within  the  last  thirty 
years — the  redhead  and  the  large  blackhead  have  been 
the  most  numerous  of  the  "good"  ducks  in  the  lower 
waters  of  the  bay,  though  widgeons,  locally  known  as 
bald  pates  or  bald  crowns,  were  also  numerous.  Those 
three  species,  with  the  canvas-backs,  were  known  to 
duck  shooters  as  good  ducks,  while  all  other  fowl  of  the 
diving  sort  are  known  as  trash  ducks.  In  former 
years  the  canvas-backs  were  seen  in  large  bodies  in  these 
waters,  but  they  do  not  find  here  the  wild  celery  in 
great  profusion,  since  the  brackish  and  salt  water  of 
these  localities  is  not  suited  to  its  growth. 

The  last  good  season  had  in  the  waters  of  Talbot 
County  was  in  February  and  March  of  1890,  at  which 
time  the  waters  of  Eastern  Bay  and  Miles  River  were 
visited  by  vast  flocks  of  redheads  and  bald  pates.  Since 
that  time  there  has  been  no  feed  in  those  waters,  and 
they  have  not  been  resorted  to  by  the  ducks.  This  feed, 
which  is  locally  known  as  duck  grass,  seems  to  have  dis- 
appeared from  many  bays,  inlets  and  streams  where  it 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DUCKING.  487 

was  formerly  abundant,  and  no  satisfactory  reason  for 
its  absence  has  been  given. 

Beside  the  vast  quantities  of  ducks  found  here  in 
old  times,  many  of  the  localities  mentioned  were  noted 
for  their  numbers  of  swans  and  geese.  Swan  Point  at 
the  mouth  of  Chester  River,  Kent  Point,  Parson's 
Island  in  Eastern  Bay,  Black  Walnut  Point  at  the 
mouth  of  Choptank  River,  Hills  Point,  Tar  Bay,  were 
favorite  localities.  The  latter  is  now,  at  the  proper 
season,  one  of  the  best  resorts  left  for  geese.  These 
fowl  are  still  to  be  found  in  many  localities  in  good 
numbers,  since,  from  the  character  of  their  feeding 
grounds,  they  are  less  disturbed  and  less  shot  at  than 
are  the  ducks.  As  they  frequent  the  wide,  open  bodies 
of  water  through  the  day  and  come  in  to  the  shores  to 
feed  only  at  night  or  in  very  stormy  weather,  there  are 
not  many  places  where  they  can  be  shot  over  decoys. 
Some  were  killed  out  of  sneak-boats  and  from  booby 
blinds,  but  where  they  are  undisturbed  by  night  shoot- 
ing with  a  light — which  is,  of  course,  unlawful — they 
are  still  to  be  seen  in  goodly  numbers. 

This  is  not  the  case  with  swans,  which,  for  some 
reason — possibly  for  the  want  of  proper  food — are  be- 
coming much  more  scarce  than  formerly.  They  decoy 
readily,  and  good  shooting  is  to  be  had  at  them  out  of 
a  battery  with  swan  decoys.  Mr.  J.  G.  Morris,  of  Eas- 
ton,  Md.,  tells  of  shooting  them  in  this  way,  using  No. 
4  or  even  No.  6  shot  and  shooting  at  the  head  only. 

The  same  gentleman  writes  interestingly  concerning 
a  method  of  killing  swans  and  geese,  which,  while  far 


488  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

removed  from  sport,  is  worth  repeating.  A  certain 
gunner  having  discovered  that  swans  were  feeding 
near  an  old  wreck  off  the  mouth  of  the  Chester  River, 
lashed  his  gun  to  the  timbers  of  the  wreck  in  such  a  way 
as  to  command  the  shoal.  When  a  number  of  swans 
had  collected  there,  he  pulled  a  string  which  was  tied 
to  the  triggers  of  his  gun  and  led  to  the  shore.  The 
discharge  raked  the  feeding  ground.  Mr.  Morris 
expresses  his  belief  in  this  story,  as  he  has  often  known 
of  geese  being  killed  in  a  similar  manner.  When  it 
was  ascertained  where  the  fowl  came  ashore  to  feed  at 
night  in  narrow  bays,  stakes  were  driven  at  the  edge  of 
the  water  and  a  duck  gun  lashed  to  them  in  such  a  po- 
sition that  it  would  rake  the  feeding  ground.  The  gun 
was  discharged  from  a  string  leading  from  the  trigger 
to  the  blind.  No  matter  how  dark  the  night,  the  indi- 
vidual in  the  blind  could  usually  hear  the  geese  feeding 
in  the  proper  place  for  a  shot. 

Beside  this  more  or  less  open  water  shooting,  many 
of  the  tributaries  of  the  Chesapeake  are  resorted  to  by 
large  numbers  of  marsh  fowl — black  ducks,  mallards, 
teals,  sprig-tail  and  all  the  marsh  ducks — and  fair 
shooting  at  these  birds  is  still  to  be  had  at  these  places. 

In  addition  to  the  failure  of  the  feed  which — in  the 
belief  of  many  persons — has  caused  the  wildfowl  to 
desert  many  places  in  Chesapeake  Bay,  where  they 
were  once  abundant,  another  cause  is  the  increase  of 
the  oyster  trade,  which  involves  the  constant  presence 
on  waters  formerly  frequented  by  the  game,  of  vessels 
and  craft  of  all  kinds.     Besides  the  disturbance  caused 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DUCKING. 


489 


by  the  passage  to  and  fro  of  such  craft,  and  their 
working  on  the  feeding  ground,  all  of  these  boats  carry 
guns  or  rifles  and  use  them  continually.  This  is 
against  the  law,  but  the  game  laws  are  little  or  not  at 
all  enforced  on  many  parts  of  the  bay. 


PART  III, 


THE  ART  OF  DUCK  SHOOTING. 


THE  ART  OF  DUCK  SHOOTING 


GUNS  AND  LOADING. 

Wildfowl  are  in  a  measure  protected  against  the 
gunner,  not  only  by  their  difficulty  of  access,  and  by 
their  wariness,  but  also  by  a  coat  of  armor — their  thick 
feathers — which  is  not  easily  penetrated.  Few  things 
are  more  important  to  success,  therefore,  than  the  gun 
which  a  man  uses,  and  the  loads  which  he  puts  in  that 
gun.  About  these  matters  every  individual  has  his  own 
opinion,  and  as  there  are  many  men  who  gun,  so  there 
are  many  minds  about  guns  and  ammunition. 

Practically,  the  12-gauge  gun  shoots  as  strongly  and 
as  closely  as  a  larger  arm,  yet  its  load  is  usually  smaller, 
though  the  circle  of  its  pattern  is  quite  as  effective.  A 
friend,  who  is  a  remarkable  shot  on  upland  game,  uses 
a  little  five-pound  12-gauge  gun,  from  which  he  shoots 
two  and  a  half  or  three  drams  of  powder  and  a  small 
charge  of  shot.  With  this  arm  he  kills  upland  game  at 
surprising  distances,  and  on  the  coast  of  California  has 
used  it  with  success  in  duck,  and  even  in  goose,  shoot- 
ing. Not  very  long  ago,  during  a  trip  to  the  North 
Carolina  coast,  where  excellent  shooting  was  had  at 
canvas-backs  and  other  ducks,  he  used  this  arm,  al- 
though advised  to  take  a  heavier  gun,  and  to  shoot 

493 


494  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

larger  charges.  However,  after  shooting  for  a  day 
and  a  half,  he  acknowledged  his  gun's  inefficiency  un- 
der these  conditions,  and  thereafter  used  a  heavier  one. 

Each  individual  has  his  personal  preferences  as  to 
size  and  weight  of  gun  and  the  way  in  which  it  should 
be  loaded,  and  these  preferences  will  depend  largely  on 
the  man's  experience,  the  kind  of  shooting  he  has  been 
accustomed  to,  and  that  which  he  purposes  to  do  at  any 
particular  time.  For  sea  shooting,  the  choice  of  most 
men  will  be  a  heavy  gun,  weighing  perhaps  ten  pounds, 
and  of  ten  gauge,  and  heavily  choked  as  to  its  left  bar- 
rel. The  charge  to  be  used  will  vary  with  the  arm  and 
the  gunner,  for  we  all  know  that  each  gun  has  its  own 
idiosyncrasies,  and  that  no  hard  and  fast  rule  for  load- 
ing can  be  laid  down.  The  gunner  should  target  his 
weapon  with  different  charges,  at  different  distances, 
from  forty  to  seventy  yards,  and  should  experiment 
until  he  has  found  the  combination  of  powder,  shot  and 
wads  to  give  him  the  most  even  pattern  at  these  various 
distances. 

Many  men  always  carry  two  guns  in  the  blind,  one 
of  them  with  the  right  barrel  a  cylinder,  so-called,  and 
the  left  slightly  choked,  and  the  other  with  the  right 
barrel  moderately  choked,  and  the  left  full  choked. 
With  such  a  combination  one  is  prepared  for  almost 
any  contingency  that  may  arise  and  can  cover  a  wide 
range. 

Most  men  shoot  heavier  charges  of  shot  than  can  be 
efficiently  used,  and  thereby  gain  nothing  in  numbers 
killed,  but  add  somewhat  to  their  own  discomfort.    In 


GUNS  AND  LOADING.  495 

a  certain  ten-pound  gun,  I  shoot  at  fowl  one  ounce  of 
shot  and  four  drams  of  powder.  This  charge  of  shot 
will  be  regarded  as  small  by  many  gunners,  but  with  it 
this  gun  does  better  work  than  with  any  other  charge. 

The  tendency  among  gunners  also  is  to  use  too  large 
shot.  Number  4  is  quite  large  enough  for  ducks,  cer- 
tainly for  canvas-backs  and  redheads;  while  for  mal- 
lards, pintails,  and  smaller  ducks,  No.  6,  or  early  in  the 
season  No.  8,  is  quite  large  enough.  One  may  kill  many 
geese  at  long  range  with  fours,  although  the  more  com- 
mon practice  is  to  shoot  B  shot  at  them.  For  swans, 
BB  is  large  enough,  though  for  long  shots  at  birds  far 
above  one,  T  or  O  may  be  used.  It  is  always  worth 
while  when  going  duck  shooting  to  carry  a  few  B  cart- 
ridges, and  eight  or  ten  shells,  loaded  with  the  larger 
shot,  for  swans.  They  do  not  take  up  very  much  room, 
and  are  sometimes  very  useful. 

While  with  perhaps  a  majority  of  gunners  the  nitro 
powders  at  once  came  into  favor,  there  was  another 
considerable  class,  more  conservative,  which  long  de- 
clined to  use  them.  As  time  passed,  however,  the 
manufacturers  overcame  very  many  of  the  difficulties 
which  at  first  gave  trouble  with  the  product,  and,  at  the 
present  day,  the  number  of  men  who  decline  to  use  it, 
because  they  do  not  regard  it  as  being  as  effective  as 
black  powder,  is  small.  Although  the  nitro  powders 
are  a  great  advance  on  the  old-fashioned  black  explos- 
ives, they  are  not  yet  all  of  them  perfect.  As  they  are 
chemical  and  not  mechanical  compounds,  they  are  sub- 
ject to  certain  changes,  depending  on  the  conditions  by 


496  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

which  they  are  surrounded,  and  which  affect  them  to  a 
greater  or  less  extent.  Thus,  some  of  the  powders,  if 
kept  in  a  very  dry  place,  may  lose  an  undue  amount  of 
moisture;  or,  if  kept  in  a  very  damp  place,  may  gain 
moisture.  It  is  a  good  rule,  therefore,  always  to  use 
freshly-loaded  cartridges,  for  after  shells .  have  been 
loaded  for  a  year  or  two  they  cannot  always  be  relied 
on  to  act  evenly^  Nine  out  of  ten  may  seem  to  be  as  ef- 
fective as  if  fresh,  but  the  tenth  may  burn  so  slowly  as 
merely  to  throw  the  shot  out  of  the  barrel.  At  the 
same  time,  no  one  who  has  become  accustomed  to 
shooting  nitro  powders  is  likely  to  go  back  to  the  jar- 
ring, punishing,  black  powders.  There  is  also  abun- 
dant testimony  that  many  brands  of  nitro  powder,  if 
properly  protected  from  heat  and  dampness,  retain 
their  efficiency  for  years. 

By  using  the  nitro  powders  we  get  rid  of  the  old  nui- 
sances of  smoke,  dirt  and  recoil,  and  all  appreciate  the 
advantage  of  this.  Is  it  certain,  however,  that  the  adap- 
tation of  the  nitro  powders  to  small  arms  gives  us  any 
actual  advantage  beside  those  of  greater  comfort? 

It  is  believed  by  some  gunners  that  the  old  views 
about  where  to  hold  to  hit  a  cross-flying  or  overhead 
bird,  must  undergo  more  or  less  modification  since  the 
introduction  of  nitro  powders.  Such  persons  contend 
that  these  nitro  powders  are  so  much  quicker  and 
stronger  than  black  powder  that  the  shot  reaches  the 
bird  in  much  less  time  than  when  propelled  by  that,  and 
that,  therefore,  it  is  no  longer  necessary  to  hold  so  far 
ahead  as  formerly  on  crossing  birds.    Good  brush  shots 


GUNS  AND  LOADING.  497 

who  once  thought  it  necessary  to  allow  consider- 
able leeway  on  crossing  shots  at  quail  and  partridges, 
declare  that  with  the  nitro  powders  it  is  not  necessary 
to  hold  ahead  at  all,  but  that  the  shot  strikes  the  bird  if 
the  gun  is  held  directly  on  it.  It  is  believed  by  them 
that  the  increase  in  the  muzzle  velocity  of  shot  pro- 
pelled by  nitro  powder  is  about  50  per  cent,  over  that  of 
black  powder.  In  other  words,  that  a  charge  of  shot 
from  a  nitro  powder  cartridge  will  go  forty-five  yards 
while  a  charge  from  the  black  powder  cartridge  will  go 
thirty  yards.  If  this  is  the  case,  the  difference  in  the 
holding  will  be  obvious. 

Does  the  suggested  difference  in  the  velocity  of  the 
flight  of  shot  actually  exist?  Is  it  true  that  the  nitro 
powders  send  the  shot  to  its  mark  more  quickly  than 
the  old-fashioned  black  powder,  with  its  smoke,  its  tre- 
mendous report,  its  cloud  of  sulphurous  smoke  and  its 
jarring  recoil  ?  Not  only  are  there  many  bird  shooters 
who  believe  this  to  be  true,  but  men  who  shoot  at  artifi- 
cial targets  from  the  trap,  and  others  who  have  had 
great  practice  in  refereeing  such  contests,  declare  that 
the  shot  goes  faster  and  hits  harder  when  sent  by  nitro 
powders  than  by  black  powder.  It  would  seem  that  ex- 
periments must  have  been  carried  on  by  the  various 
manufacturers  of  nitro  powders  which  would  demon- 
strate the  truth  or  falsity  of  such  beliefs. 

It  is  certain  that  shooters  who  use  the  smokeless 
powders  instantly  see  the  effect  of  the  shot,  while  with 
black  powder  there  is  a  perceptible  interval  of  wait- 
ing while  the  smoke  clears  away  before  the  shooter 


498  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

knows  what  the  result  of  the  discharge  of  his  gun  has 
been,  and  it  is  probable  that  this  difference  in  the  time 
of  learning  what  the  shooter  has  done  may  in  part  ac- 
count for  the  widespread  belief  alluded  to. 

The  muzzle  velocities  of  certain, powders,  with  cer- 
tain loads,  have  been  given  in  various  tests.  With  the 
Dupont  powder,  the  velocities  in  Mr.  Armin  Tenner's 
tests  are  given  as  slightly  under  i,ooo  feet,  the  loads 
running  from  two  and  a  half  to  three  drams;  while  a 
load  of  three  drams,  the  equivalent  of  thirty-seven 
grains,  with  one  and  an  eighth  ounce  of  shot,  gives  an 
average  of  1,040  feet.  The  new  Robin  Hood  smoke- 
less powder  claims  a  velocity  of  1,100  feet,  with  three 
and  a  quarter  drams,  bulk  measure,  and  one  and  an 
eighth  or  one  and  a  quarter  ounces  of  shot. 

On  the  other  hand,  Curtis  and  Harvey's  Sporting 
powder  is  said,  as  stated  below,  to  give  a  muzzle  veloc- 
ity of  1,344  feet  with  a  load  of  four  and  a  half  drams 
of  powder  and  one  and  a  half  ounce  of  No.  4  shot.  The 
pattern  with  this  charge  is  reported  as  good. 

From  the  experiments  carried  on  at  the  works  of  the 
Union  Metallic  Cartridge  Company,  at  Bridgeport,  we 
have  the  following  table,  showing  how  many  grains  of 
each  one  of  seven  of  the  best  known  nitro  powders  are 
equivalent  to  drams  of  black  powder,  of  which,  how- 
ever, the  quality  is  not  specified.  In  this  table  the  new 
Robin  Hood  powder  is  not  included,  as  perhaps  it 
should  not  be.  Mr.  N.  P.  Leach  calls  it  a  new  de- 
parture, as  it  is  neither  a  nitro  nor  a  picric  powder.  It 
is,  he  says,  "a  bulk  powder,  with  high  velocity,  and 


GUNS  AND  LOADING.  499 

gives  very  little  chamber  pressure  and  recoil  when  fired. 
In  loading  it,  a  black  powder  bulk  measure  should  be 
used."    This  is  the  table : 

COMPARATIVE  MEASURES  OF  NITRO   POWDERS. 


Black  Powder. 


2  drams  equal  to.......       24 

2J4  drams  equal  to.  = 27 

2^  drams  equal  to..... 

2^  drams  equal  to.......       2S 

3  drams  equal  to 

3^  drams  equal  to...„... 

3^  drams  equal  to o. 

3^  drams  equal  to....... 

4  drams  equal  to o 

4%  drams  equal  to 

4^  drams  equal  to.....o. 


1 

S-5 

11 

^1 

II 

5 

1^ 

^ 

24 

28 

25 

25 

24 

16 

e  c 

27 

313^ 

28 

29 

27 

18 

00 

30 

35 

31 

33 

30 

20 

22 

33 

38^ 

34 

37 

33 

22 

27 

36 

42 

37 

40 

36 

24 

29 

39 

45y2 

40 

42 

39 

26 

31 

42 

49 

43 

45 

42 

28 

35 

52V2 

46 

48 

45 

30 

38 

•• 

56 
59^ 

49 

52 

50 

48 

32 

.. 

63 

55 

.0 

The  maximum  load  of  Walsrode  for  a  ten-gauge  gun 
is  given  by  the  manufacturers  as  forty  grains,  which  is 
nearly  the  equivalent  of  four  and  a  quarter  drams  of 
black  powder.  For  an  eight-gauge  the  maximum 
charge  is  fifty-eight  grains. 

Of  the  new  Robin  Hood  powder,  we  are  told  that 
three  and  a  quarter  drams,  bulk  measure,  well  wadded, 
with  one  and  an  eighth  to  one  and  a  quarter  ounce  of 
shot,  gives  a  good  pattern.     An  increased  amount  of 


500  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

powder,  when  but  one  and  a  quarter  ounce  of  shot  is 
used,  gives  but  a  sHght  increase  of  velocity,  while  it 
destroys  the  pattern. 

If  one  fires  a  charge  of  shot  over  the  water,  he  sees 
that  the  pellets  which  compose  that  charge  travel  at 
varying  velocities  and  for  different  distances,  and  reach 
the  water  in  a  string  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  in  length ; 
and  in  the  same  way,  when  one  fires  at  a  target,  he  finds 
that  the  charge  of  shot  spreads  out  more  or  less  irregu- 
larly over  a  circle  whose  diameter  may  be  three,  four, 
five  or  more  feet,  according  to  the  distance  of  the  target 
from  the  gun's  muzzle.  The  pellets  are  most  thickly 
clustered  about  the  centre  of  the  target  and  are  greatly 
scattered  near  its  edges. 

Theoretically,  the  pellets  of  shot  in  a  cartridge 
should  leave  the  muzzle  of  the  barrel  in  the  same  order 
which  they  occupied  in  the  cartridge,  each  individual 
pellet  then  taking  its  own  course.  Those  on 
which  the  greatest  force  is  exerted,  and  which  for  any 
reason  are  least  retarded,  go  the  straightest  and  with 
most  velocity,  and  reach  the  target  first.  Those  which 
are  held  back  by  any  cause,  or  which,  by  crushing,  have 
been  deprived  of  their  spherical  form,  lose  much  of 
their  velocity,  and  soon  drop  out  of  the  direct  line  of 
flight.  No  gun-barrel,  as  bored  to-day,  is  a  true  cylin- 
der, but  toward  the  muzzle  all  are  drawn  down  so  that 
they  are  sections  of  cones;  the  pellets  of  shot  there- 
fore are  violently  jammed  together  just  before  they 
leave  the  barrel,  and  more  or  less  of  them  are  upset — 
that  is,  crushed,  so  that  they  lose  their  sphericity.    Such 


GUNS  AND  LOADING.  50I 

pellets  become  at  once  ineffective.  Shot  manufacturers 
have  endeavored  to  compensate  for  this  by  hardening 
the  shot,  so  that  it  is  less  easily  smashed  than  the  old 
soft  shot,  and  have  succeeded  so  well  that  chilled  shot 
is  now  almost  universally  used  by  men  who  are  espe- 
cially anxious  to  do  effective  shooting. 

It  is  thus  evident  that  at  ordinary  shooting  distances 
only  a  portion  of  the  pellets  in  any  charge  is  effective. 
What  this  portion  is  depends  on  the  gun  and  the  load 
which  is  used  in  it.  It  has  been  stated  that  in  a  true 
cylinder  barrel  the  killing  portion  of  the  load  is  less 
than  50  per  cent.,  the  remainder  of  the  pellets  dropping 
to  the  ground,  or  flying  off  at  an  angle,  or  losing  their 
velocity  very  rapidly ;  but  in  modern  guns  the  propor- 
tion is  much  greater,  some  guns  sending  70  per  cent, 
of  the  shot  to  the  target  at  40  yards. 

It  has  been  determined  by  experiment  that  about  5 
per  cent,  of  the  pellets  of  the  charge  simultaneously 
reach  a  target  at  forty  yards  distance  from  the  gun. 
Very  close  after  this  5  per  cent,  follows  from  25  to  30 
per  cent,  of  the  charge,  and  then  the  remainder  of  the 
effective  pellets.  In  his  "Breech-loader  and  How  to  Use 
It,"  Mr.  Greener  states  that  in  a  cylinder-bore  gun 
shooting  forty-two  grains  of  nitro  powder  and  one  and 
an  eighth  ounce  of  No.  6  shot,  the  leading  pellets 
reached  the  target  at  forty  j^ards  in  .138  of  a  second 
from  the  time  at  which  they  leave  the  muzzle,  while  the 
last  pellet  to  reach  the  target  arrives  in  .187  of  a  second 
after  the  discharge.  In  other  words,  the  difference  in 
time  is  about  .05  of  a  second. 


502  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

If,  as  is  often  stated — but,  we  believe,  without  any- 
better  foundation  than  the  merest  estimate — a  wild  duck 
flies  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  minute,  the  bird  during  this 
.05  of  a  second  would  pass  over  a  space  of  about  four 
and  a  half  feet,  and,  therefore,  if  struck  by  the  leading 
pellet,  the  last  part  of  the  charge  would  miss  him  en- 
tirely. On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
there  is  no  appreciable  interval  between  the  arrival  at 
the  target  of  these  pellets ;  they  continue  to  come,  and 
the  .05  of  a  second  merely  represents  the  interval  be- 
tween the  very  first  and  the  very  last  pellet  to  arrive. 

In  the  same  work  Mr.  Greener  gives  also  tables  of 
the  velocities  of  shot  with  different  loads  of  powder, 
as  determined  by  Mr.  R.  W.  S.  Griflith.  The  tests  were 
made  with  a  twelve-bore  gun,  with  powder  charges  of 
Schultze  powder  running  from  two  and  a  half  to  four 
drams,  and  with  charges  of  shot  from  one  to  one  and  a 
quarter  ounce,  the  sizes  of  shot  being  Nos.  i,  5,  6  and 
10.  The  highest  velocity  with  four  drams  of  powder 
and  one  and  a  quarter  ounce  of  No.  i  shot,  at  five  yards, 
was  1,106  feet,  and  at  sixty,  863  feet.  The  reader  de- 
siring to  study  this  table  is  referred  to  the  volume  in 
question.  Much  interesting  information  is  given  in 
standard  works  on  guns  and  shooting,  such  as  "The 
Breech  Loader,"  "The  Gun  and  Its  Developments,** 
and  'The  Modern  Sportsman's  Gun  and  Rifle." 

HOW  TO  HOLD. 

When  a  charge  of  shot  is  fired  at  a  bird,  it  proceeds 
through  the  air  somewhat  in  the  shape  of  an  elongated 


HOW    TO    HOLD.  503 

ellipse.  From  this  ellipsoid,  which  may  be  twenty  feet 
in  length  and  three  or  four  feet  in  diameter  at  its 
widest  part,  pellets  of  shot  are  continually  dropping. 
The  space  covered  by  this  shot  and  the  shape  taken 
by  it,  while,  of  course,  never  quite  the  same  for 
any  two  gun  barrels,  is  at  all  events  a  large  one, 
and  it  would  seem  that  no  bird  at  which  it  was 
discharged  could  get  away,  if  the  gun  were  held 
reasonably  straight.  But  we  all  know  that  they  do 
get  away. 

One  of  the  most  difficult  things  in  the  world  is  to 
learn  how  to  hold  on  your  ducks  and  when  to  draw  the 
trigger.  A  great  deal  has  been  written  on  this  subject, 
but  to  very  little  purpose.  We  are  told  that  you  should 
shoot  one,  two,  three,  or  ten  feet  ahead  of  your  bird, 
but  when  the  bird  is  darting  by  like  the  w^ind,  at  an  un- 
known distance,  how  is  any  man  to  estimate  a  distance 
ahead  of  him  in  feet?  It  may  be  doubted  if  it  can  be 
done.  If  birds  are  coming  gently  to  decoys,  or  are  fly- 
ing toward  the  gunner,  head  on,  the  gun  should  be 
aimed  slightly  in  front  of  the  bird,  and  then  moved 
ahead  just  at  the  moment  of  pulling  the  trigger,  in  or- 
der that  the  bird  may  fly  into  the  charge  and  be  struck 
by  the  centre  of  it ;  but  a  crossing  bird,  perhaps  going 
with  the  wind,  or  flying  overhead  in  calm  weather,  pro- 
ceeds at  such  a  rate  that  no  elaborate  calculation  of  feet 
or  inches  can  be  made.  The  best  the  beginner  can  do 
is  to  hold  well  ahead  of  the  bird,  trying  to  gauge  his 
shooting  by  the  efifect,  holding  further  and  further 
ahead,  until  at  last  he  manages  to  kill.    He  must  learn 


504  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  lesson  of  experience,  and  must  strive  to  profit  by 
each  shot,  whether  he  hits  or  whether  he  misses. 

It  will  often  happen  that  the  gunner  will  see  feathers 
fly  from  the  hinder  part  of  the  crossing  duck  at  which 
he  has  shot,  and  from  this  he  knows  that  he  is  shooting 
too  far  behind.  Sometimes  he  will  aim  at  a  duck,  and 
missing  it,  will  kill  one  flying  several  feet  behind  it. 

Yet  such  a  chance  may  mislead  him,  for,  as  shown  on 
an  earlier  page,  he  may  possibly  have  hit  the  first  bird 
with  the  first  pellets  of  the  charge  and  killed  the  second 
with  the  last  pellets.  Yet  if  I  were  going  to  give  advice 
to  a  young  duck  shooter  as  to  how  to  hold  on  his  birds, 
it  would  consist  of  these  three  rules : 

1.  Hold  ahead. 

2.  Hold  further  ahead,  and 

3.  Hold  still  further  ahead. 

It  will  be  found  that  the  most  experienced  shooters, 
w^hether  at  ducks  or  at  the  trap,  are  never  afraid  of 
holding  too  far  ahead.  What  they  fear  is  that  they 
will  shoot  behind  their  birds.  Judgment  must  be  used, 
of  course.  One  does  not  shoot  at  a  gentle  incoming 
bird  as  he  does  at  one  sweeping  by  in  full  flight.  He 
must  be  observant  and  must  try  to  learn  just  what  the 
effect  of  each  shot  is.  Much  may  be  inferred  from 
those  shots  fired  at  birds  flying  low  over  the  water, 
where  the  relation  of  the  shot  on  the  water  to  the  pass- 
ing bird  can  be  clearly  observed.  He  should  try  to  see 
and  to  remember  all  that  he  does,  and  many  of  his  shots 
will  convey  to  him  a  lesson.  He  should  remember  all 
these  lessons,  and  try  to  profit  by  them. 


HOIV    TO    HOLD.  505 

If  the  gunner  has  with  him  a  companion  who  has 
been  trained  to  watch  the  course  of  shot,  he  may  re- 
quest him  to  watch  it  and  tell  him  why  his  charge 
misses.  For  be  it  known  that  the  trap  shooters,  men  who 
spend  much  of  their  time  shooting  at  targets  and  gaug- 
ing the  flight  of  shot,  declare  that  it  is  quite  possible  to 
see  the  charge  of  shot  flying  from  the  muzzle  of  the 
gun  toward  a  target,  and  to  determine  just  where  this 
charge  goes  with  relation  to  tne  target.  This  acute- 
ness  of  vision  is  said  not  to  be  peculiar  to  a  few  men, 
but  to  be  common  to  many  trap  shooters.  The  ob- 
server stands  behind  and  a  little  to  one  side  of  the 
shooter,  and  looking  at  the  target,  sees  the  puff  of 
smoke  come  from  the  muzzle  of  the  gun.  This  rushes 
out  about  ten  feet,  and  from  it  darts  forward  what 
looks  like  a  long  shadow  composed  of  many  lengthwise 
strips;  the  course  of  this  flying  shadow — which  is  in 
fact  the  charge  of  shot — can  be  followed  to  and  beyond 
the  target,  and  we  are  told  that  it  is  the  common  prac- 
tice for  a  trap  shooter,  when  he  finds  himself  missing 
his  targets  or  his  birds,  to  ask  a  friend  to  stand  near 
him  and  tell  him  where  his  shot  is  going  with  relation 
to  the  target,  whether  before,  behind  it,  or  over  or 
under. 

It  is  rather  startling  to  be  told  that  a  charge  of  shot 
can  be  seen  by  the  unaided  eye  as  it  flies  from  the  muz- 
zle of  the  discharged  gun ;  but  since  we  all  know  that 
the  charge  of  shot  fired  from  a  gun  has  been  photo- 
graphed, it  appears  reasonable  enough  that  the  trained 
human  eye,  under  favorable  conditions,  should  be  able 


506  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

to  detect  the  passage  of  a  charge  of  shot  through  the 
air.  At  all  events,  the  matter  appears  to  be  one  of 
common  knowledge  among  trap  shooters. 

Skill  in  shooting  is  not  born  in  any  one.  Just  like 
reading  and  writing,  it  must  be  learned,  and,  like  read- 
ing and  writing,  the  more  practice  one  has,  the  more 
easily  and  the  better  it  is  done.  Many  a  professional 
gunner,  who  is  a  wonderful  shot,  would  find  it  labor  of 
the  hardest  kind  to  sit  down  and  write  a  four-page  let- 
ter; and  many  a  business  or  professional  man,  who 
goes  gunning  perhaps  once  in  two  or  three  years,  finds 
that  killing  the  fowl  that  give  him  shots  is  something 
that  he  cannot  accomplish.  Many  men  have  noticed 
that  sometimes  at  the  end  of  a  season  they  can  shoot 
very  well ;  and  then,  if  for  two  or  three  years  they  do 
not  go  shooting,  they  find  that  they  cannot  hit  anything, 
and  have  to  begin  at  the  beginning  and  learn  it  all  over 
again.  They  have  perhaps  forgotten  how  to  hold  on 
their  birds,  and,  beside,  their  muscles,  through  disuse, 
refuse  at  first  to  act  with  the  brain  as  they  formerly 
did.  This  reflex  action,  so  called,  can  only  be  regained 
by  practice. 


WHEN  TO  SHOOT. 

No  one  can  learn  how  to  shoot  by  reading  about  it  in 
books.  The  only  way  that  the  art  can  be  acquired  is  by 
practice.  A  few  hints  and  suggestions,  however,  may 
make  this  practice  more  profitable.    A  common  error  of 


WHEN    TO    SHOOT,  507 

beginners — Indeed,  it  is  not  confined  to  them — is  to 
shoot  at  the  birds  too  late.  The  gunner  should  shoot 
at  crossing  birds  before  they  are  up  even  with  him.  As 
a  rule,  if  birds  are  coming  from  the  leeward,  let  him 
rise  to  shoot  as  soon  as  they  get  over  the  tail  of  his  de- 
coys, and  let  him  pull  the  trigger  before  they  get  oppo- 
site the  blind.  In  the  same  way,  at  overhead  birds,  he 
should  shoot  before  they  are  actually  above  him.  If  he 
waits  until  the  moment  when  they  are  nearest  to  him 
he  is  almost  certain  to  shoot  behind  them.  While  it  is 
true  that  a  man  must  keep  down  close  and  out  of  sight 
as  much  as  possible,  and  while  it  is  also  true  that  certain 
birds,  as  black  ducks,  mallards,  teal  and  widgeon,  will 
flare  and  begin  to  climb  as  soon  as  they  see  him,  it  is  bet- 
ter that  they  should  do  this  than  that  they  should  get 
beyond  him  before  he  shoots.  If  he  is  obliged  to  twist 
around  and  shoot  at  them  as  they  are  going  away, 
especially  if  they  are  birds  that  have  flown  over  him, 
he  is  very  likely  to  shoot  behind  them. 

Experiments  made  years  ago  by  Major  W.  McClin- 
tock,  R.  A.,  and  recorded  in  the  Journal  of  the  Royal 
United  Service  Institution,  have  been  quoted  as  throw- 
ing some  light  on  the  question  as  to  how  the  gunner 
should  hold  on  his  birds.  It  is  said  that  a  charge  of 
four  and  a  half  drams  best  C.  &  H.  powder  gives  to 
No.  4  shot  a  muzzle  velocity  of  1,344  feet.  Inferior 
powder  would,  of  course,  give  less.  The  time  of  flight 
for  a  velocity  of  1,300  feet  is  for  30  yards  .093;  for 
40  yards,  .1342;  for  50  yards,  .1797;  for  60  yards, 
.2311,  and  so  on.    This  will  be  about  the  velocity  usu- 


5o8  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ally  obtained  from  a  ten-bore  gun  with  four  and  a  half 
drams  of  good  powder  and  one  and  a  half  ounce  of  No. 
4  shot.  A  bird  flying  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  minute 
across  the  line  of  fire  at  30  yards  distance  would  pass 
over  about  84  feet  while  the  shot  passes  through  the  30 
yards.  At  40  yards  the  bird  would  cover  about  12  feet ; 
at  50  yards,  about  16  feet,  and  at  60  yards,  not  far  from 
22  feet. 

We  thus  have  the  basis  of  a  very  pretty  theory,  but, 
unfortunately,  we  do  not  know  the  velocity  at  which 
birds  fly,  and  we  can  only  guess  the  distance  at  which 
they  are  from  us,  and  can  only  estimate  what  10,  15  or 
20  feet  ahead  is,  as  we  see  the  bird  shooting  by  us 
through  the  air.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  believe  there 
is  no  known  rule  for  holding  ahead  which  will  do  any 
one  any  good.  The  only  way  in  which  the  gunner  can 
learn  how  to  do  this  is  to  practice  shooting,  and  in  that 
way  we  should  certainly  all  be  glad  to  learn  how  to  hold. 


FLIGHT  OF  DUCKS. 

In  connection  with  duck  shooting  and  the  question 
as  to  how  to  aim  at  these  birds  when  flying,  a  vast  num- 
ber of  guesses  and  estimates  have  been  made  concernmg 
the  speed  with  which  birds  fly.  It  is  commonly  stated 
that  ducks  fly  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  minute,  or  ninety, 
or  even  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  an  hour,  but  we 
do  not  know  that  any  satisfactory  observations  have 


> 

w 

o 
o 

H 
O 

> 

i§ 


FLIGHT    OF    DUCKS.  509 

been  made  to  test  the  birds'  flight.  The  older  natural- 
ists, recording  the  capture  of  passenger  pigeons  in  New 
York  with  undigested  rice  in  their  crops,  believed  to 
have  been  obtained  in  the  rice  fields  of  Georgia,  made 
estimates  as  to  the  time  required  to  cover  the  distance 
and  the  consequent  speed  of  the  bird  in  flight.  The 
process  of  digestion  in  all  birds  is  rapid,  but  it  is  not 
known  that  this  process  goes  on  during  the  time  of 
flight  or  when  the  bird  is  actively  exerting  itself. 

Not  very  long  ago  an  interesting  observation  on  the 
flight  of  the  pintail  duck  was  reported  by  Mr.  George 
Bird,  of  New  York,  whose  interest  in  all  matters  per- 
taining to  shooting  and  whose  wide  experience  are 
sufficiently  well  known. 

The  observation,  while  it  does  not  give  the  speed  at 
which  the  particular  species  reported  on  flies,  does  show 
that  it  easily  flies  at  a  speed  of  over  sixty  miles  an  hour. 

In  March,  1899,  Mr.  Bird  was  traveling  through  the 
Southwest  on  a  special  train  over  the  M.,  K.  &  T.  R.  R. 
PVom  a  slough  in  the  prairie  at  the  side  of  the  track 
several  pintail  ducks  sprang  into  the  air  and  flew  along 
parallel  with  the  train.  Mr.  Bird  watched  them  for  a 
moment  or  two,  and  then,  seeing  that  they  were  flying 
at  about  the  same  rate  as  the  train,  it  occurred  to  him 
to  look  at  the  speed  gauge,  which  he  had  been  consult- 
ing but  a  moment  before.  The  train  was  running  at 
the  rate  of  fifty-two  miles  per  hour,  and  the  birds  were 
swinging  along  beside  it  and  not  more  than  forty  yards 
distant. 

A  moment  or  two  later  they  seemed  disposed  to  leave 


5IO  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

the  train,  and  swung  out  over  the  prairie  to  a  distance 
of  perhaps  i,ooo  yards  from  the  train,  and  then,  turn- 
ing again  toward  the  track,  swung. in  and  resumed  their 
old  position.  After  a  few  moments,  however,  they 
seemed  again  to  become  uneasy,  and  began  to  increase 
their  speed,  still  keeping  parallel  with  the  train,  but 
drawing  slowly  ahead,  reminding  the  observer  as  he 
looked  at  them  somewhat  of  the  way  in  which  the  faster 
of  two  steamboats  of  nearly  equal  speed  draws  away 
from  the  slower.  This  continued  until  the  ducks 
reached  a  point  where  the  smoke  of  the  engine  was  met 
wath,  when  they  suddenly  flared  up  into  the  air,  greatly 
increased  their  speed,  and  in  a  very  few  moments  were 
quite  out  of  sight  ahead  of  the  train. 

The  opportunity  was  one  which  might  never  occur 
again,  and  the  observation  one  of  very  considerable  in- 
terest. The  pintail  duck  is  not  a  very  swift  flyer  if  we 
compare  it  with  such  birds  as  the  butterball,  broadbill, 
redhead  or  canvas-back.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  prob- 
ably as  swift  a  bird  as  "the  mallard  or  black  duck,  and 
perhaps  somewhat  swifter. 

Gunners  believe  that  the  broadbill,  blackhead,  can- 
vas-back and  redhead  are  among  the  swiftest  of  all  our 
ducks,  but  it  is  quite  certain  that  almost  all  of  them  fly 
rapidly  enough  to  at  times  puzzle  any  except  the  most 
experienced  gunners. 

ETIQUETTE  OF  THE  BLIND. 

Since  it  often  happens  that  two  gunners  may  shoot 
out  of  the  same  box  or  the  same  blind,  it  is  evident  that 


ETIQUETTE    OF    THE    BLIND.  51 T 

to  avoid  wasting  shots,  and  to  get  the  most  satisfaction 
out  of  the  shooting,  certain  rules  governing  the  con- 
duct of  each  man  must  be  observed.  These  unwritten 
laws  will  be  taught  most  men  by  their  own  good  feel- 
ing and  proper  instincts ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  often 
happens  that  a  very  young  man  in  the  blind,  carried 
away  by  excitement  and  enthusiasm,  may  do  things 
which  in  cooler  blood  he  would  not  think  of  doing,  and 
which  may  prove  very  annoying  to  his  companion. 

The  laws  governing  such  shooting  are  well  under- 
stood by  all  men  of  experience,  but  since  each  one  of  us 
must  have  made  a  beginning  in  shooting,  it  will  per- 
haps be  easier  for  the  inexperienced  if  some  of  these 
laws  are  here  noted. 

These  unwritten  rules  are  based  on  the  principle  that 
where  two  men  shoot  together  they  are  not  rivals,  each 
striving  to  outdo  the  other,  but  are  partners,  working 
for  the  common  good,  which  in  this  case  means  the  suc- 
cess of  the  day.  It  is  therefore  important  that  no 
shots  should  be  wasted  and  that  each  one  should  do  all 
in  his  power  to  bring  to  bag  the  birds  which  come  with- 
in shot.  Besides  this,  of  course,  there  are  the  general 
laws  of  good  manners,  which  govern  in  such  a  case' 
just  as  they  should  in  other  relations  of  life.  ^^ 

It  is  therefore  to  be  understood  that  the  two  men 
should  never  interfere  with  each  other;  they  should 
never  fire  at  the  same  bird  at  the  same  time,  and  if  sev- 
eral come  together,  the  gunners  should  understand 
without  words  which  bird  belongs  to  each. 

If  a  single  duck  comes  up  that  man  should  shoot  at 


512  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

it  from  whose  side  it  comes,  and  he  should  have  the  op- 
portunity to  use  both  barrels  before  his  companion 
shoots.  If  the  ducks  come  constantly  from  one  side, 
as  often  they  will  come  from  the  leeward,  turns  should 
be  taken  on  the  single  birds.  If  they  come  from  the  lee- 
ward, the  man  to  leeward  should  kill  first,  but  if  this  is 
followed  by  another  single,  he  should  sit  back  in  the 
blind  and  let  the  windward  man  kill  the  duck.  Of 
course,  in  case  of  a  miss  with  both  barrels,  the  man  who 
has  not  shot  is  at  liberty  to  do  what  he  can  toward  kill- 
ing the  bird.  If  two  or  three,  or  more,  birds  come  up 
to  the  decoys,  from  any  quarter,  the  man  who  is  to  lee- 
ward should  shoot  the  bird  or  birds  on  his  side,  and  the 
man  to  windward  those  on  his. 

Sometimes  three  birds  will  come  up,  let  us  say,  from 
the  leeward ;  the  leading  bird  would  naturally  be  taken 
by  the  windward  man,  while  the  man  to  leeward  would 
take  the  second  one,  and  the  third  would  be  anybody's 
bird.  A  natural  exclamation  from  the  leeward  man 
would  be,  under  such  circumstances,  "You  take  the 
one  in  the  lead !"  but  before  the  birds  get  up  to  the  point 
where  they  would  be  shot  at,  the  bird  which  was  lead- 
ing may  have  dropped  back  to  second  place.  In  such  a 
case  there  is  a  possibility  of  a  misunderstanding,  for, 
if  the  windward  man  imagined  that  his  companion 
referred  to  the  individual  duck  that  was  in  the  lead, 
and  which  is  now  in  second  place,  both  men  may  shoot 
at  this  duck.  Of  course,  no  such  blunder  should  ever 
occur.  When  one  speaks  of  the  leading  duck  he  does 
not  mean  the  particular  duck  that  is  leading  at  that 


ETIQUETTE    OF    THE    BLIND.  513 

moment,  but  the  duck  which  is  ahead  when  the  shots 
are  fired.  We  have  more  than  once  seen  a  blunder  of 
this  kind  take  place,  by  which  one  or  more  shots  were 
lost. 

Under  no  circumstances  will  a  thoughtful  man,  with 
proper  instincts,  shoot  at  a  bird  that  properly  belongs  to 
his  companion.  Under  no  circumstances  whatever  will 
he  shoot  across  his  companion's  face ;  and  if  your  gun- 
ning companion  be  guilty  of  such  a  breach  as, this,  he 
should  never  again  have  an  opportunity  to  shoot  in  the 
blind  with  you. 

It  is  not  customary  for  men  who  are  not  well  ac- 
quainted with  each  other  to  shoot  in  the  same  blind, 
but  if,  by  any  misfortune,  a  gunner  should  find  himself 
in  a  blind  with  a  man  who  evidently  is  so  selfish  that  he 
wants  to  kill  all  the  birds,  no  matter  from  which  direc- 
tion they  may  come,  he  should  leave  the  blind  on  the 
very  first  opportunity,  and  decline  to  return  to  it,  or 
ever  again  to  shoot  with  this  person.  Characteristics 
such  as  this,  which  would  never  be  seen  under  the  ordi- 
nary conditions  of  life,  sometimes  manifest  themselves 
in  the  blind,  and  I  know  of  one  or  two  men,  who  have 
high  reputations  as  sportsmen  and  high  standing  in 
the  community,  with  whom,  under  no  circumstances, 
would  I  share  a  blind  or  a  box. 

Most  men,  however,  do  not  intentionally  impose  on 
their  companions,  and  many,  who  under  stress  of  ex- 
citement will  do  things  which  are  not  fair,  and  which 
they  should  not  do,  may  be  checked  by  a  quiet  word, 
and  taught  by  a  little  precept  and  a  good  deal  of  ex- 


514  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ample  to  act  in  the  blind  as  men  of  good  breeding 
should  act  everywhere. 

There  are  few  things  which  contribute  more  to  a 
man's  contentment  that  to  have  with  him  in  the  blind 
a  cheerful,  good-natured,  generous  companion.  There 
is  nothing  which  so  greatly  detracts  from  the  pleasure 
of  shooting  as  to  shoot  with  one  who  does  not  show  a 
reasonable  amount  of  self-control,  and  who  wants  all 
the  shots,  or  claims  all  the  birds.  And  so,  unless  you 
have  as  a  sharer  of  your  blind  some  one  whom  you 
thoroughly  know,  and  have  confidence  in,  it  is  far  bet- 
ter for  you  to  shoot  alone. 


CHESAPEAKE  BAY  DOG. 

Every  man  who  guns  much  for  wildfowl  ought  to 
have  a  good  water  dog.  For  retrieving  of  this  sort — 
except  in  regions  where  duck  shooting  is  a  regularly 
practiced  sport — setters  are  very  commonly  used. 
They,  however,  have  not  sufficient  strength  or  stamina 
for  the  work,  and  if  constantly  used  are  sure  to  break 
down  and  become  valueless  in  a  short  time.  The  same 
objection  applies,  but  in  somewhat  greater  degree,  to 
the  different  varieties  of  spaniels.  The  work  of  re- 
trieving in  water,  mud  and  ice  is  exceedingly  hard  and 
exhausting,  and  an  animal  of  great  strength  and  en- 
durance is  required  for  it.  Such  hardy  qualities  we  find 
in  the  Chesapeake  Bay  dog. 

For  nearly  one  hundred  years  there  have  been 
bred  about  the  head  of  Chesapeake  Bay,  and  in 
later  years  in  many  other  localities,  a  strain  of  large 
reddish-yellow  dogs,  under  this  name,  which  are  no- 
table for  their  fondness  for  the  water,  and  for  their 
strength  and  endurance.  Notwithstanding  all  the  ex- 
planations given  for  the  origin  of  the  breed,  the  well- 
bred  Chesapeake  Bay  dog  shows  his  ancestry  on  the 
surface.  He  is  a  Newfoundland  dog,  and  nothing 
more.  Not  the  Newfoundland  of  the  modern  dog 
shows,  which,  by  crossing  with  the  St.  Bernard,  has 
become  an  entirely  different  creature,  very  large,  long- 
backed,  heavy-headed  and  long-coated;  but  the  New- 

515 


5l6  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

foundland  dog  of  old  times,  before  there  were  dog 
shows  and  before  this  breed  had  been  greatly  modified. 

Tlie  history  of  this  breed  is  partly  traditional  and 
partly  authentic.  It  is  vSaid  that  about  the  year  1805 
there  arrived  at  Baltimore  a  ship  called  the  "Canton," 
which  at  sea  had  met  with  an  English  brig  bound  from 
Newfoundland  to  England,  in  a  sinking  condition.  On 
this  brig  were  found  two  puppies,  a  dog,  which  was 
brown  in  color,  and  a  bitch,  black.  These  pups  w^ere 
rescued  and  became  the  property  of  a  Mr.  Law.  The 
dog  was  named  Sailor,  and  his  mate,  Canton.  The 
dog  passed  into  the  hands  of  Governor  Lloyd,  of  Mary- 
land, and  the  bitch  became  the  property  of  Dr.  Stewart, 
of  Sparrows  Point.  Their  progeny  became  the  Chesa- 
peake Bay  dogs. 

The  dog  of  the  present  day  is  almost  always  a  faded 
brown  or  dark  yellow  in  color,  though  it  is  quite  usual 
to  see  puppies  with  some  white  markings,  or  even  black 
and  white.  It  may  fairly  be  assumed  that  the  black 
and  black-and-white  puppies,  which  are  occasionally 
produced,  being  esteemed  a  bad  color  for  the  work  the 
dogs  are  expected  to  do,  have  been  gotten  rid  of  and  the 
brown  or  yellow  dogs  bred  from,  so  that  the  present 
color  is  due  to  selection.  There  are  two  types  of  coat, 
one  short,  thick  and  straight,  or  slightly  wavy,  and 
the  other  much  longer  and  tightly  curled. 

Not  a  few  efforts  have  been  made  to  improve  the 
Chesapeake  Bay  dog  by  crossing  it  with  other  breeds ; 
the  setter,  the  water  spaniel  and  the  English  retriever 
having  been  used  for  this  purpose.    All  of  these  efforts 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DOG.  517 

have  been  fruitless.  The  real  Chesapeake  Bay  dog,  so 
far  as  I  can  learn,  is  better  than  any  crossed  animal, 
and  strength,  stamina  and  level-headedness  are  lost  by 
any  cross  of  which  I  have  heard. 

The  best  color  for  the  Chesapeake  Bay  dog  is  that 
commonly  known  as  sedge  color,  which  is  not  greatly 
different  from  the  color  of  the  long  hair  on  the  hump 
of  the  buffalo,  and  but  little  darker  than  that  of  the 
dead  cane  or  grass  where  the  dogs  are  used,  so  that  it 
never  attracts  attention.  But  any  of  the  faded  browns 
which  are  common  to  this  race  are  useful  enough. 

This  dog  has  an  excellent  nose,  and  a  duck  which 
has  been  brought  down  in  the  marsh  is  not  likely  to 
get  away  from  it  unless  it  creeps  into  some  hole  so  deep 
that  the  dog  cannot  reach  it  or  dig  it  out. 

Like  every  other  dog,  the  Chesapeake  requires  an 
education,  though  this  need  not  be  nearly  so  elaborate 
as  that  given  to  setter  or  pointer.  He  must  be  taught 
to  obey,  to  remain  in  the  blind  until  ordered  to  fetch, 
and  to  bring  the  birds  to  the  hand.  Some  years  ago  a 
correspondent  of  Forest  and  Stream,  signing  himself 
''Cayuga,"  wrote  of  this  dog  substantially  as  follows : 

"The  Chesapeake,  while  still  in  the  period  of  early 
puppyhood,  takes  naturally — or  shall  we  say  instinct- 
ively?— to  retrieving  ducks,  but  some  special  training 
must  be  given  him  to  cause  perfect  retrieving  to  your 
hand.  Then,  again,  this  breed  seems  to  require  instruc- 
tion in  retrieving  other  feathered  game,  such  as  plover, 
snipe  and  rail.  It  is  not  a  bad  thing  to  give  him  good 
yard  instruction,  teaching  him  to  down,  or  charge,  to 


5l8  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

whoa,  to  hide,  hold  up,  and  to  sneak,  or  crawl  through 
cover,  and,  of  course,  to  bring  and  carry  for  you.  He 
will  learn  even  quicker  than  your  silky-haired  setter, 
and  when  you  have  taught  him  everything  you 
can  think  of,  and  he  becomes  an  accomplished  dog, 
*  *  *  then  you  will  pat  that  faded-looking  coat  and 
swear  he  is  a  darling;  and  when  you  watch  him  lying 
hidden  in  the  wild  rice  or  beside  you  in  the  blind,  the 
tip  of  his  brown  nose  just  visible  as  he  keeps  a  sharp 
lookout  for  ducks,  sometimes  directing  your  attention 
to  a  stray  incomer  you  have  not  seen,  you  will  say  he 
is  the  best  companion  you  ever  had ;  but  when  you  see 
him — at  the  command — dash  through  icy-cold  water, 
clambering  over  and  diving  under  driftwood  and  cakes 
of  ice  after  a  winged  duck,  and  when  after  a  chase  of  a 
mile  he  gets  her,  and  breasting  the  billows  and  current 
back,  places  her  in  your  hands  so  tenderly  that  not  a 
feather  is  torn,  gives  himself  a  shake,  but  not  close 
enough  to  wet  you,  ready  for  another  plunge,  then  you 
will  know  him  for  the  hero  he  is.  Again,  let  off  both 
barrels  into  a  flock  of  fliers  and  tell  him  to  'fetch  'em 
in.'  Mark  his  sagacity.  He  passes  the  dead  ones  and 
those  sorely  wounded  and  goes  straight  for  some  crip- 
ple that  is  trying  desperately  to  get  away,  and  she  has 
got  to  leave  the  water  to  escape  him.  If  she  dives, 
down  he  goes  after  her.  So,  one  by  one,  he  brings  them 
in,  the  dead  ones  nearest  at  hand  last.  Oftentimes,  in 
the  haste  and  excitement  of  retrieving  a  half  dozen  or 
more  ducks,  he  may  neglect  to  place  the  dead  ones  in 
your  hand,  but,  bringing  them  to  shore,  leaves  them 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DOG.  519 

and  plunges  in  again.  This  may  be  reason  or  an  in- 
herited quahty,  but  if  he  is  a  thoroughbred,  properly 
handled,  he  will  bring  the  wounded  to  you,  and  after 
the  batch  has  been  secured,  he  will  fetch  up  the  pile 
deposited  on  the  shore." 

In  the  chapter  on  Point  Shooting  I  have  said  some- 
thing about  the  way  in  which  these  dogs  work.  There 
are  among  the  old-time  gunners  witnesses  enough  to 
pile  up  volumes  of  testimony,  showing  that  for  cour- 
age, endurance  and  determination  the  Chesapeake  Bay 
dogs  stand  in  the  front  rank  of  all  our  breeds.  I  may 
quote  one  or  two  examples  of  this.  The  first,  from  a 
writer  on  Chesapeake  Bay  waters  in  Forest  and  Stream 
signing  himself  J.  C.  S.,  is  as  follows : 

*'We  began  shooting  as  soon  as  it  was  light  and  had 
varying  success,  as  neither  of  us  was  a  crack  shot,  but 
with  the  help  of  George  and  the  dog  we  managed  to 
gather  twenty-one  ducks  in  a  couple  of  hours.  The 
wand  now  blew  a  gale  and  the  river  was  fearfully 
rough.  Just  then  we  heard  a  swan  trumpeting.  It  was 
coming  up  the  river,  but  beyond  the  reach  of  shot. 
Seizing  the  .32  rifle,  I  opened  on  him,  and  at  the 
fourth  or  fifth  shot  had  the  good  luck  to  tumble  him 
down  with  a  broken  wing.  Now  came  the  difficulty. 
George  al)Solutel3^  refused  to  go  after  it,  but  said  the 
river  was  too  rough,  and  it  was.  By  this  time  the  dog, 
Taylor,  was  almost  beside  himself,  whining  and  almost 
crazy  to  go.  Bob  loosed  him ;  he  ran  to  the  point,  and 
jumped  in,  and  swam  in  the  direction  that  the  swan 
had   disappeared.     We    stood   almost   breathless    and 


520  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

watched  him  out  of  sight.  Twenty  minutes  passed, 
and  no  Taylor.  Half  an  hour  went  by,  and  no  signs 
of  the  dog.  I  felt  sorry  w^e  let  the  dog  go,  and  we  did 
not  fire  a  gun  after  the  dog  left.  Bob  looked  down  his 
nose  and  said  he  guessed  he'd  seen  the  last  of  old  Tay- 
lor. We  packed  up  and  got  ready  to  go  home,  when 
George  sang  out :  'Ki !  yi !  Bress  de  Lawd !  Heah's 
Taylah!'  And,  sure  enough,  here  came  the  good  old 
dog,  nearly  fagged  out,  staggering  along  the  shore, 
dragging  that  big  swan.  He  had  been  gone  a  little 
over  three-quarters  of  an  hour."* 

Another  example  of  the  readiness  with  which  these 
dogs  adapt  themselves  to  circumstances  is  given  by 
Mr.  J.  G.  Smith,  of  Algona,  Iowa,  who  says:  ''We 
had  had  a  fine  morning's  shoot  near  a  large  slough, 
where  there  were  quite  a  good  many  ducks  and  geese. 
About  nine  o'clock  w'e  thought  the  flight  was  over,  so 
we  gathered  up  our  birds  and  started  for  the  wagon. 
The  country  around  us  was  all  burnt  over.  We  got  out 
of  the  slough  and  onto  the  high  ground,  and  were 
walking  slowly  along,  when  we  saw  a  large  Canada 
goose  making  for  the  slough.  We  sat  down  on  the 
burnt  ground  and  I  called.  The  goose  answered  and 
turned  directly  toward  us.  I  called  again,  and  the 
goose  came  on,  until  he  got  within  fifty  yards  of  us.  I 
told  my  friend  to  shoot,  as  he  would  come  no  nearer. 
He  shot,  and  the  goose  fell  almost  to  the  ground. 
When  within  about  four  feet  of  the  ground  he  seemed 
to  recover,  and  I  told  the  bitch  to  go.  Away  she  went 
after  him.  They  went  over  a  ridge  about  one-half  mile 
*For  other  examples  of  the  work  of  these  dogs  see  p.  611. 


CHESAPEAKE    BAY    DOG.  52 1 

from  us.  I  ran  quickly  to  the  top  of  the  ridge,  and 
when  I  got  there  I  found  my  bitch  coming  out  of  a 
large  slough  with  the  goose  in  her  mouth.  It  weighed 
fifteen  poimds." 

The  excelleot  nose  which  these  dogs  in\^riably  have 
makes  it  quite  certain  that  they  will  retrie\'e  all  birds 
that  come  to  the  groimd.  Besides  this,  they  are  com- 
monly very  careful  in  the  way  in  which  the>'  handle 
the  game,  and  it  is  very  unusual  to  find  one  that  will 
mark  the  bird  with  his  teeth.  This,  howe\'er,  is  of 
course  largely  a  matter  of  training.  They  are  excel- 
lent house  dogs,  and  are  usually  kind  to  children  and 
friendly  with  people  whom  they  know,  while  at  the 
same  time  they  are  excellent  watch  dogs,  always  to  be 
dqiended  on  as  guardians  of  the  home. 


DECOYS, 

WOODEN. 

Although  there  are  conditions  under  which  decoys 
are  not  needed  for  wildfowl  shooting,  yet  usually  these 
are  essential  to  success.  The  man  who  proposes  to 
gun  regularly  must  have  decoys. 

The  commonest  forms  of  these  are  merely  wooden 
blocks  trimmed,  or  whittled,  to  the  shape  of  a  bird's 
body,  to  which  is  attached  a  separate  piece  of  wood 
representing  the  neck  and  head.  Such  decoys  are 
painted  to  imitate  the  color  of  the  bird's  plumage,  are 
weighted  below  with  a  strip  of  lead  or  iron,  to  keep 
them  right  side  up,  and  to  a  staple  driven  into  the  part 
of  the  block  representing  the  bird's  lower  breast  is  tied 
a  line  running  to  the  weight  or  anchor  that  rests  on 
the  bottom  and  holds  the  decoy  in  position.  From 
these  primitive  decoys,  which  the  professional  gunners 
along  the  shore  often  make  for  themselves,  and  which, 
in  fact,  seem  often  as  attractive  to  the  ducks  as  much 
more  expensive  ones,  there  have  developed  decoys  fla* 
beneath,  and  with  a  wooden  keel  an  inch  or  two  deep, 
shod  with  metal;  decoys  of  cork,  also  usually  flat  be- 
neath; others  made  of  two  blocks  of  cedar,  hollowed 
out  and  pinned  together  by  wooden  nails,  and  finally, 
decoys  made  of  canvas,  which  can  be  inflated,  and 
from  which  the  air  is  expelled  when  they  are  not  in 

522 


WOODEN    DECOYS.  523 

use,  so  that  the  decoys  can  be  packed  in  very  small 
compass. 

Sometimes  the  decoys  have  glass  eyes  put  in  them, 
and  often  they  are  very  artistically  painted.  Quite 
commonly,  however,  they  are  painted  with  a  bright 
and  glossy  paint,  which  glistens  and  shines  in  the  sun's 
rays,  so  that  birds  approaching  them  from  certain 
directions  instantly  recognize  that  they  are  not  ducks, 
and  decline  to  come  to  them.  The  collapsible  decoys 
had,  at  one  time,  quite  a  vogue.  They  are  open  to  the 
objection  that  they  are  perishable,  and  that  when  holes 
are  made  in  them,  whether  by  wear  or  by  shot  care- 
lessly fired  at  them,  they  are  useless.  Moreover,  they 
are,  of  course,  very  light,  and  in  rough  or  windy  weath- 
er dance  and  roll  on  the  water.  Under  certain  condi- 
tions, however,  they  are  very  effective. 

Most  practical  men  seem  to  prefer  the  old-fashioned 
wooden  decoys;  and,  undoubtedly,  a  stand  of  good 
wooden  decoys,  with  two  or  three  or  more  live  decoys 
tow^ard  the  head  and  tail  of  the  stand,  forms  a  combina- 
tion more  efficient  than  anything  else. 

The  gunner  w^ho  finds  himself  without  decoys  at  a 
place  w^here  the  birds  are  coming  well,  can  often  supply 
the  lack  by  using  the  birds  that  he  kills.  If  the  water 
is  shallow,  canes,  stiff  weed  stalks,  or  willow  shoots, 
sharpened  and  passed  through  the  neck  of  a  dead  duck 
up  to  its  head,  with  the  other  end  stuck  in  the  mud,  will 
make  of  the  dead  bird  a  very  good  decoy.  Some  gun- 
ners always  go  prepared  to  make  the  most  of  the  birds 
which  they  kill,  in  this  way.     They  carry  in  the  boat  a 


524  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

number  of  steel  wires  about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  in 
diameter,  and  two  feet  long,  and  as  the  birds  are  killed 
these  wires  are  set  in  the  mud  and  run  up  through  the 
duck's  neck  just  far  enough  to  allow  the  duck  to  rest 
as  though  sitting  on  the  water. 

Sometimes  at  the  edge  of  a  pool,  or  little  bay,  where 
ducks  have  been  feeding,  a  dozen  sods  or  lumps  of  dirt, 
of  the  right  size,  scattered  on  the  margin  and  in  the 
shoal  water,  may  attract  the  birds  and  bring  them 
down  within  shot.  At  certain  points  in  North  Caro- 
lina we  have  seen  these  clods  prove  very  successful 
decoys. 

As  has  been  said,  the  value  of  a  stand  of  ordinary 
wooden  decoys  is  many  times  increased  if  there  are 
added  to  them  a  couple  of  live  decoys.  These,  when 
properly  trained,  are  usually  on  the  watch  for  birds 
in  the  air,  and  will  quack  vociferously  at  black  birds, 
buzzards,  herons,  or  wild  geese.  If  they  are  not 
trained,  good  work  for  at  least  a  part  of  the  day  may 
be  had  by  separating  them,  tethering  the  drake  at  the 
head  of  the  decoys  and  the  duck  at  the  foot.  They 
will  talk  to  each  other  at  frequent  intervals,  and  when 
they  see  other  ducks  in  the  air,  both  will  call.  If  the 
weather  is  mild  and  still,  artificial  decoys  which  have 
no  motion  loom  up  tremendously  over  the  smooth  wa- 
ter, and  black  ducks,  widgeon  and  some  other  species 
will  not  come  anywhere  near  them;  but  a  single  live 
decoy,  moving  about  in  the  water,  calling  now  and 
then,  and  dabbling  or  splashing,  will  bring  in  a  bunch 
of  birds  at  once.     They  seem  /to  lose  all  suspicion  and 


WOODEN    DECOYS.  525 

pin  their  faith  to  the  tethered  bird.  In  the  same  way, 
in  some  parts  of  the  country,  throwing  up  the  cap  is 
practiced  in  order  to  attract  birds  at  a  distance,  and 
for  the  same  purpose  diving  and  flapping  decoys  have 
been  invented.  The  device  of  having  a  string  running 
through  an  eye  on  some  of  the  decoys  and  then  passing 
to  the  bhnd,  so  that  when  the  gunner  pulls  the  string 
the  birds  bob  up  and  down,  acts  somewhat  on  the  same 
principle. 

Live  decoys  are  commonly  carried  to  the  marsh  in 
coops,  sometimes  large  enough  to  hold  only  one  or 
two  birds,  and  at  others  a  greater  number.  For  one 
who  is  gunning  frequently,  a  crate  made  of  heavy 
wire,  but  with  a  wooden  floor,  is  more  convenient  than 
the  rougher  soap  box  with  slats  nailed  over  it  that  is 
often  used. 

In  many  waters,  as  has  already  been  stated,  it  is 
desirable  to  provide  the  live  decoys  with  a  stool  to  rest 
on.  This  consists  of  a  long  leg — sharp  pointed,  to  be 
thrust  down  into  the  mud — supporting  on  the  upper 
end  a  table  six  or  eight  inches  in  diameter,  to  which 
the  duck  may  resort  after  it  is  tired  of  being  in  the 
water,  and  on  which  it  can  stand,  cleanse  its  feathers 
and  dry  off.  While  a  duck,  if  it  is  free,  can  rest  on 
the  water  for  a  long  time  without  inconvenience,  one 
that  is  tethered  is  likely  soon  to  get  wet  and  chilled, 
and  may  become  sick. 

To  the  leg  of  the  stool  below  the  table  is  fastened 
a  leather  strap  or  line  running  up  to  two  branches, 
each  of  which  ends  in  a  running  noose.     After  the 


526  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

table  has  been  firmly  set  in  the  mud,  so  that  its  upper 
surface  is  an  inch  under  water,  the  two  running 
nooses  are  slipped  about  the  duck's  legs  snugly,  but 
not  so  tight  as  to  impede  circulation.  If  these  nooses 
are  made  of  canvas  it  will  be  found  that  they  slip 
much  less  freely  than  if  of  leather,  and  that  the  duck, 
no  matter  how  much  it  may  move  around,  will  seldom 
or  never  get  free. 

Another  method  of  securing  live  decoys  is  practiced 
on  northern  marshes.  It  is  thus  described  by  Mr. 
Frank  D.  Many,  who  says :  ''On  each  duck's  leg  I 
sew  a  small  band  of  light  canvas  that  has  a  small  ring 
attached  to  it.  Then  I  have  a  heavy  piece  of  fish  line 
with  a  small  snap  on  one  end  of  it.  Then  about  one 
foot  from  the  snap  I  put  a  small  brass  swivel.  This 
keeps  the  line  from  getting  tangled.  Then  at  the  end 
of  the  line,  which  is  about  8  feet  long,  I  fasten  a  pound 
weight.  I  take  the  duck  out  of  the  crate,  snap  the 
line  to  the  ring  on  its  leg,  throw  the  weight  into  the 
water  and  the  duck  after  it.  The  water  being  any- 
where from  6  inches  to  2  feet  deep,  this  gives  the  duck 
a  circle  about  i6  feet  in  diameter  to  play  around  in, 
and  by  throwing  a  couple  of  handfuls  of  corn  once  in 
a  w^hile  it  keeps  them  moving  and  makes  a  perfect  de- 
coy." 

LIVE    DECOYS. 

xA.t  certain  points  in  the  East  where  ducks  and  geese 
are  scarce,  and  success  in  shooting    not    easily    had, 


LIVE    DECOYS.  527 

very  special  attention  has  been  paid  to  the  question 
of  live  decoys.  Not  only  are  birds  used  in  connec- 
tion with  the  ordinary  wooden  decoys,  being  tethered 
in  the  ordinary  fashion  either  in  shoal  water  or  on  the 
shore,  but  beside  this,  birds  are  so  trained  that  they 
may  be  turned  loose  to  wander  among  the  decoys  at 
will,  or  may  even  be  thrown  from  the  blind  up  into 
the  air  to  fly  short  distances,  and  then  to  alight 
among  the  decoys.  As  already  stated,  at  Silver  Lake, 
in  Massachusetts,  the  various  clubs  possess  hundreds  of 
live  goose  decoys,  of  which  a  large  proportion  are  so 
well  trained  that  they  are  thrown  into  the  air.  Some 
account  of  the  methods  pursued  there  is  given  in  the 
chapter  on  goose  shooting. 

At  one  club  they  tie  out  about  70  geese  on  the  beach. 
These  birds  are  always  on  the  watch,  and  their  calling 
is  likely  to  attract  any  wild  birds  that  come  within 
sight.  If  the  wild  geese  do  not  come  readily  to  the 
decoys,  the  pens  in  which  the  geese  are  kept  are  opened 
by  pulhng  a  line,  and  the  necessary  number  of  birds 
for  the  work  in  hand  are  set  free  and  used  as  fliers. 
This  method  of  decoymg  the  wild  birds  is  extremely 
successful.  It  is  the  practice  to  allow  the  wild  birds 
to  swim  in  near  to  the  decoys,  and  then  to  fire  one 
barrel  at  them  on  the  water  and  the  other  as  they  rise. 
When  there  are  four  or  five  men  in  the  stand,  the 
result  of  this  is  likely  to  be  the  destruction  of  the  whole 
flock,  unless  it  is  a  large  one. 

Mr.  Townsend's  account  of  houseboat  shooting  on 
Lake  Champlain  shows  how  black  ducks  are  used  as 


528  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

live  decoys,  as  does  also  an  article  published  in  Forest 
and  Stream,  by  Mr.  J.  O.  Phillips,  on  duck  shooting  in 
Massachusetts : 

There  is  a  certain  charm  about  shooting  in  a  thickly 
settled  region  which  one  does  not  get  anywhere  else. 
The  game  is  scarce  and  hard  to  circumvent,  and  when 
a  pair  or  two  of  shy  old  black  ducks  are  successfully 
brought  to  bag,  the  satisfaction  is  often  greater  than 
the  killing  of  ten  times  the  number  in  a  more  favor- 
able locality. 

The  season  is  late  October.  For  two  days  a  north- 
wester has  been  doing  its  best  to  remove  the  few  re- 
maining leaves,  until  at  last  the  wind  has  died  away 
and  the  evening  is  calm  and  wonderfully  clear.  It  is 
likely  to  be  the  coldest  night  of  the  season,  and  we  go 
to  bed  in  the  best  of  spirits,  almost  certain  of  a  shot 
in  the  morning. 

It  is  just  beginning  to  lighten  a  little  as  we  close  the 
farmhouse  door  behind  us  and  emerge  into  the  breath- 
less stillness  of  the  early  morning.  The  watch-dog 
ambles  up,  then  wags  his  tail,  turns  about  and  disap- 
pears in  the  gloom  of  the  yard.  How  hard  the  ground 
feels,  and  what  a  noise  each  leaf  makes  under  our  feet 
as  we  walk  briskly  toward  the  lake. 

Long  streaks  of  pink  and  gray  appear  in  the  east, 
but  look  closer  and  note  that  little  speck  against  the 
sky  as  it  glides  downward  across  a  bright  band  of  or- 
ange light  and  drops  lower  and  lower  until  it  vanishes 
toward  the  lake.  Ducks,  twelve  or  fifteen  at  least,  and 
we  set  our  teeth  and  walk  harder. 


LIFE    DECOYS.  529 

Down  toward  the  woods  the  path  leads.  Nothing 
has  been  heard  save  the  distant  crowing  of  sleepy 
cocks,  but  now  a  new  sound  greets  us,  the  cheerful 
quacking  of  my  faithful  decoy  ducks. 

We  hasten  into  the  pines  and  over  a  noiseless 
carpet  of  dry  needles.  How  dark  it  is.  A  rustle  in  the 
brush  and  a  faint  streak,  which  show  we  have  waked 
a  rabbit,  and  a  belated  flock  of  robins  make  the  air  hum 
as  they  spring  from  a  birch  tree  above  our  heads. 

Cautiously  we  creep  out  on  to  the  point,  sheltered 
on  both  sides  by  w^alls  of  brush.  Ahead  of  us  are  the 
stand  and  coops,  and  as  we  come  in  sight,  a  watchful 
old  drake  sees  us  and  sends  out  a  ringing  call.  In- 
stantly a  chorus  of  duck  music  from  out  on  the  water 
fills  the  whole  air,  and  we  walk  boldly  ahead,  past  the 
coops  and  into  the  stand,  knowing  that  no  wild  birds 
can  hear  us  through  all  that  racket. 

Remove  your  hat  and  peer  between  the  branches. 
Out  there  on  the  dark  water  float  the  bunches  of 
w^ooden  ducks,  while  in  the  shallow  water  along  the 
beach  the  live  decoys  swim  and  quack.  Count  them 
all  carefully.  To  the  left  there  is  a  flock  of  fourteen, 
where  there  should  be  but  nine,  and  even  as  you  lool 
five  silent  shapes  detach  themselves  from  the  rest  an 
glide  out  in  front  without  a  ripple,  and  as  if  moved 
by  some  mysterious  power. 

Caution  is  now  the  word.  Against  the  paling  lean 
three  grim  sentinels;  one  an  8-gauge,  one  a  10  and 
one  a  Winchester  pump.  But  do  not  reach  so  ner- 
vously for  your  gun.     It  is  always  ready  loaded,  and 


530  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

moreover  there  is  plenty  of  time,  for  the  game  is  still 
two  gunshots  distant. 

Suddenly,  with  hardly  a  moment's  warning,  the  wild 
birds  rise  in  the  air  with  one  accord,  and  vanish  against 
the  dark  background  of  the  pines  on  the  opposite  shore. 
We  feel  almost  ready  to  cry.  ''What  frightened 
them  ?"  you  ask.  Nothing ;  it  is  only  a  way  these  shy 
black  fellows  have,  and  we  could  have  done  no  better. 

And  now  we  have  time  to  note  the  surroundings, 
the  great  looming  shapes  of  the  distant  ice  houses,  the 
tall  chimneys  of  the  pumping  stations,  all  losing  much 
of  their  artificial  ugliness  in  the  gloom  of  early  sunrise. 
Behind  us  runs  a  high  oak  bluff,  the  tree-trunks  just 
beginning  to  catch  the  rosy  eastern  glow.  A  few 
teams  are  heard  rumbling  over  frozen  roads,  and  across 
the  lake  we  mark  a  night-watchman  trudging  home- 
ward, his  lantern  still  lighted  and  swinging  by  his  side. 
Slowly  and  solemnly  comes  the  sound  of  the  Wenham 
bell.  Six  times  the  message  is  sent  out  over  the  still 
water,  and  so  loud  it  sounds  that  you  can  scarcely  be- 
lieve the  church  is  a  mile  away. 

All  this  time  I  am  sweeping  the  lake  with  the  glass, 
and  at  last  I  make  out  three  little  specks.  They  look 
as  if  they  were  drawing  toward  us.  Yes,  they  are 
coming,  as  fast  as  they  can  swim.  But  they  are  small 
ducks,  and  a  morning  like  this  we  should  certainly  get 
a  better  shot. 

Ah,  I  thought  so.  There  is  the  bunch  we  saw  drop 
in  earlier.  They  haven't  noticed  us  yet,  but  we  will 
see  what  we  can  do. 


LIVE    DECOYS.  53I 

Softly,  one  after  another  of  the  flyers  is  Hfted  from 
the  coop,  and  sent  saiHng  out  over  the  Hne  of  ducks, 
which  reply  in  a  deafening  chorus.  Some  of  them 
waddle  back  to  the  expected  corn,  and  are  again  scaled. 

The  small  ducks,  buffleheads  they  are,  have  ap- 
proached to  within  15  yards  of  the  beach,  and  are  rest- 
ing in  a  little  knot,  their  heads  tucked  under  their 
feathers.  It  would  be  easy  to  kill  all  three  with  one 
barrel,  but  we  must  wait. 

The  big  bunch  have  made  up  their  minds,  and  slow- 
ly, ever  so  slowly,  they  begin  to  push  toward  us.  You 
would  scarcely  believe  they  were  moving,  but  every 
time  you  look  they  are  a  bit  closer.  Unless  the  un- 
foreseen occurs,  as  it  sometimes  does,  we  are  pretty 
certain  of  a  fine  shot. 

They  have  reached  a  bunch  of  block  decoys  and  stop, 
puzzled  for  a  moment.  Quickly  hand  me  that  little 
drake.  See!  he  has  done  the  work,  and  watch  how 
eagerly  they  follow  him,  as  he  swims  toward  the  beach. 

Take  the  lo-gauge,  and  be  very  careful  you  do  not 
show  yourself.  I  will  count  three,  and  we  must  shoot 
together  at  exactly  the  same  moment.  Let  them  get 
as  near  as  we  want  them;  about  25  yards  will  be  the 
most  effective  range  for  the  open  barrels  of  our  big 
guns.  I  see  you  would  pull  now  if  I  were  not  here  to 
stop  you,  but  above  all  things  don*t  get  excited  or  we 
are  sure  to  make  a  mess  of  things. 

One,  two — hold !  They  have  spread  again,  and  we 
must  wait  for  a  better  chance.  One,  two,  three — we 
pull  well  together,  and  a  deafening  roar,  a  great  splash- 


532  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ing  of  ducks,  and  a  chorus  of  squawks  from  frightened 
decoys,  is  the  result.  Lucky  is  the  man  who  can  single 
out  his  bird  and  kill  with  the  left  barrel.  I  missed 
clean,  and  am  too  busy  shooting  at  cripples  with  the 
pump  gun  to  see  what  you  are  about. 

The  fusillade  is  over,  and  we  count  eight  dead  ducks. 
Two  only  have  flown  away,  besides  the  three  buflie- 
heads,  while  one  is  swimming  some  200  yards  out. 

Slaughter,  mere  butchery,  I  hear  some  one  say.  But 
come  with  me  and  watch  them,  possibly  four  morn- 
ings, your  eyes  glued  to  sky  and  water,  with  nothing 
but  a  meager  ruddy  duck  to  reward  your  patience. 
Then,  when  the  longed-for  moment  arrives,  you  will 
grasp  your  trusty  8-gauge  with  as  much  pride  as  a 
quail  shooter  his  light  16. 

We  have  collected  in  all  nine  plump  black  ducks, 
fresh  from  their  summer  home,  and  with  few  excep- 
tions as  finely  flavored  as  any  bird  that  swims. 

You  will  scarcely  believe  that  we  have  been  in  the 
stand  two  hours.  Game  was  in  sight  nearly  all  the 
time,  and  now  that  the  excitement  is  over  we  remem- 
ber that  we  are  hungry,  and  shouldering  our  game, 
tramp  proudly  back  to  breakfast. 


BREEDING    WILDFOWL. 

It  is  only  within  a  very  few  years  that  breeding  wild 
geese  and  ducks  has  been  seriously  attempted.  At 
present,  however,  a  number  of  persons  are  very  much 


BREEDING    WILDFOWL.  533 

interested  in  this  pursuit,  and  there  seems  good  reason 
to  believe  that  after  a  few  years  more  of  experiment, 
a  number  of  species  of  our  wildfowl  will  be  so  far 
domesticated  that  they  can  be  depended  on  to  breed 
in  confinement.  At  present  mallards  and  black  ducks 
are  practically  the  only  live  decoy  ducks  that  are  to  be 
had,  but  at  various  points  in  the  country  a  few  Canada 
geese  are  being  bred. 

The  oldest  and  most  successful  Zoological  Garden 
in  the  United  States  is  that  at  Philadelphia,  which  has 
long  been  under  the  able  superintendence  of  my  friend, 
Mr.  Arthur  Erwin  Brown.  The  Zoological  Society 
has  been  remarkably  successful  in  caring  for  the  ani- 
mals exhibited.  An  inquiry  of  Mr.  Brown  concerning 
the  breeding  of  wildfowl  there,  has  drawn  from  him 
the  following  note : 

"We  have  exhibited  in  our  garden,  57  of  the  196 
species  of  swans,  geese  and  ducks  recognized  by  the 
British  Museum  catalogue,  but  I  confess  that  we  have 
not  been  successful  in  breeding  them.  A  public  gar- 
den is  not  the  best  place  in  the  world  in  which  to  breed 
birds,  for  their  nesting  habits  are  usually  shy,  and 
there  are  too  many  people  around  during  the  long  incu- 
bating period.  Still,  we  ought  to  have  done  better, 
and  I  do  not  fully  understand  why  we  have  not ;  except 
that  our  ponds  are  a  good  deal  exposed  to  visitors. 

''We  have  bred  and  raised  many  Egyptian  geese, 
mallard  ducks,  redheaded  ducks  and  summer  ducks. 
The  mute  swan,  the  Canada  goose,  the  Chinese  goose 
and  others  have  nested  but  failed  to  hatch.     Those 


534  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

that  we  have  bred,  were  in  a  large  lake  with  cover  on 
the  island,  and  the  young  have  simply  been  let  alone, 
with  the  result  that  all  grew  up  except  a  few  that  fell 
victims  to  rats.  I  have  no  doubt  at  all  that  many 
water  fowl  which  do  not  breed  in  a  Zoological  Gar- 
den, would  do  so  in  the  seclusion  of  private  ponds." 

At  a  club  in  Currituck  Sound,  where  there  is  a  stand 
of  from  twenty  to  twenty-five  wild  geese,  two  or  three 
of  the  birds  lay  and  hatch  each  year.  The  number 
raised,  however,  is  comparatively  small,  for  the  eggs 
are  few,  and  the  danger  to  the  goslings  after  they  are 
hatched,  from  minks,  coons,  and  other  wild  animals, 
very  great.  At  other  points  goose  breeding  is  more 
successful,  and  no  doubt  a  considerable  number  of  the 
birds  are  reared  in  captivity  each  year. 

As  time  goes  on,  the  captive  wildfowl  will  no  doubt 
adapt*  themselves  to  their  surroundings  so  far  as  to 
breed  in  confinement.  The  late  Major  Fred  Mather 
was  at  one  time  the  owner  of  a  very  considerable  flock 
of  wildfowl  of  various  sorts.  He  met  the  usual  dif- 
ficulties and  discouragements,  but  was  successful  in 
raising  many  wood  ducks,  and  bred  other  species.  An 
account  of  his  flock,  written  a  year  or  two  before  his 
death,  was  published  in  Forest  and  Stream,  and  is,  in 
part,  as  follows: 

Discarding  all  the  old-squaws,  sea  coots,  whist- 
lers, and  other  birds  which  cannot  be  confined  to  a  diet 
of  grain,  vegetable  and  such  animal  food  as  our  tame 
ducks  get,  there  are  ten  American  ducks  well  worthy 
of  domestication  and  of  keeping  pure,  by  one  who  loves 


BREEDING    WILDFOWL.  535 

to  have  such  things  about  him.  Few  know  how  beau- 
tiful a  living  wood  duck  or  teal  is,  or  how  one  gets  to 
love  them  and  have  them  about.  What  if  a  green- 
winged  teal,  the  smallest  of  all  ducks,  is  no  larger  than 
a  pigeon ;  the  question  is  not  one  of  meat  as  it  was  with 
primitive  man,  when  he  domesticated  the  mallard.  I 
have  spent  more  dollars  than  I  could  well  afford  on  this 
fancy,  and  if  wealthy  would  prefer  it  as  a  ''fad"  to  any 
other.  A  few  surplus  birds  were  sold,  but  not  enough 
to  pay  for  many  wild  birds  which  came  dead,  when 
the  only  thing  left  for  me  was  the  express  charges. 
Then  there  was  food,  loss  by  minks  and  other  vermin ; 
but  I  never  faltered. 

When  you  get  a  wild  bird  never  clip  a  wing,  unless 
as  a  preliminary  to  pinioning  shortly  after.  When 
you  cut  the  stiff  quills  of  the  primaries,  they  will  split 
in  time  and  become  like  ''hang  nails"  on  a  human  hand; 
they  split  up  into  the  flesh  and  become  sore,  do  not 
shed,  and  sometimes  cause  blood  poisoning.  If  they 
shed  and  new  feathers  grow,  the  bird  must  be  caught 
and  clipped  twice  a  year,  with  a  chance  of  .ts  escape. 

A  bird  once  pinioned  needs  no  more  attention,  and  is 
prevented  from  flying  while  it  lives.  Only  one  wing 
must  be  pinioned,  so  that  an  attempt  to  fly  turns  it 
over  on  the  ground.  Lay  the  bird  on  its  back,  wrap  a 
towel  about  one  wing  and  the  body,  leaving  the  other 
free.  Have  your  assistant,  who  holds  the  bird,  press 
his  thumb  on  the  main  artery  where  he  feels  the  pulse, 
at  the  point  marked  P  in  the  illustration.  Pluck  the 
fine  feathers  between  the  joint  A  and  the  line  C,  and 


536 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


also  four  of  the  secondary  feathers  whose  quills  come 
in  the  line  of  the  proposed  cut,  B.  Never  un joint  the 
wing  at  A;  it  leaves  a  large  knuckle  which  will  con- 
tinually get  bruised  and  sore.  No  surgeon  would  am- 
putate a  leg  or  an  arm  at  a  joint. 


Having  bared  the  part  of  feathers,  make  a  cut  on 
the  line  B,  from  close  to  the  junction  of  the  little 
thumb  E,  to  the  wing.  If  you  cut  on  the  line  C,  there 
will  be  several  secondary  feathers  left,  and  birds  so 
pinioned  can  often  fly  over  a  fence  and  for  some  dis- 
tance. There  is  merely  a  skin  over  the  two  bones  on 
the  line  B,  and  but  a  trifling  cut  need  be  made.  Then, 
with  a  stout  knife,  cut  the  bones,  taking  care  not  to  cut 
the  skin  back  of  them.  Turn  up  the  ends  of  the  bones ; 
skin  back  to  the  dotted  line.D,  thus  leaving  a  flap  to 
turn  over  the  amputation.  Stitch  this  flap  over  the 
wound  with  three  or  four  stitches  of  sewing  silk,  no 
cotton;  bend  down  the  little  thumb  with  the  silk  so 
that  the  scar  will  be  protected,  and  let  the  bird  go. 

Properly  performed,  there  should  be  no  loss  of  blood, 
to  speak  of,  and  the  wound  will  heal  in  three  days. 
I  once  pinioned  twelve  ducks  inside  an  hour,  and  if 


BREEDING   WILDFOWL.  537 

they  had  been  handed  me  without  delay,  I  could  have 
easily  made  the  number  fifteen.  Care  must  be  taken 
that  no  bone  protrudes  or  the  wound  will  never  heal. 
I  have  brought  pinioned  birds  with  protruding  bones, 
where  some  thoughtless  fellow  had  merely  chopped  the 
wing  off  with  a  hatchet.  Such  birds  are  always  poor, 
and  will  never  breed.  Of  course,  I  amputated  the 
wing  above  the  joint  A,  and  made  a  clean  job  and  a 
healthy  bird. 

With  young  birds,  at  six  or  eight  weeks  old,  or  as 
soon  as  the  pinfeathers  start,  all  that  is  necessary  is 
a  pair  of  sharp  scissors  to  clip  the  line  B,  leaving  the 
thumb. 

Ankylosis  is  a  Greek  term  often  used  in  pathology 
for  a  stiff  joint.  Our  joints  must  be  used  or  they  pro- 
test, as  we  see  when  we  have  been  "cramped  up"  in  a 
car  or  coach  all  day.  Keep  an  elbow  or  knee  in  a  fixed 
position  for  three  months,  more  or  less,  and  it  is  no 
longer  a  joint,  the  disease  known  as  ankylosis  has  set 
in,  and  there  you  are. 

When  a  bird  is  pinioned,  the  mutilation  is  plaimy 
shown  when  it  stretches  its  wings  for  exercise  of  its 
joints,  but  when  the  wings  are  closed,  only  a  careful 
observer  would  note  that  the  primaries  of  only  one 
wing  reached  above  the  back.  I  would  not  now  pinion 
a  bird  larger  than  a  mallard;  because  the  bones  are 
large,  the  birds  are  heavy,  and  there  is  a  better  way  to 
do  it,  so  that  when  at  rest  the  birds  are  perfect,  and 
only  when  they  stretch  their  wings  is  there  any  evi- 
dence that  they  are  not  symmetrical. 


53^  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

This  plan  is  best  for  geese,  pelicans,  sandhill  cranes, 
swans  and  other  large  birds.  The  tools  are  fine  soft 
copper  wire  and  an  awl  of  proper  size. 

Have  an  attendant  or  two  to  hold  the  bird,  which 
must  be  blindfolded.  Draw  the  wing  back  at  the  joint 
marked  A  in  the  cut ;  drill  holes  in  several  of  the  pri- 
maries and  secondaries,  marked  i  and  2 ;  put  the  wires 
through  in  several  places,  binding  the  feathers  together 
so  as  to  keep  the  joint  from  moving;  fasten  the  wires 
and  the  job  is  done. 

The  joint  will  become  ankylosed  before  the  next 
month,  the  feathers  will  be  shed,  but  that  wing  can 
never  be  extended  for  flight,  yet  the  bird  is  perfect. 
We  occasionally  meet  men  with  stiffened  joints,  caused 
by  improper  treatment,  but  there  is  no  suffering  after 
the  first  few  days  of  so  confining  a  joint,  Nature  cares 
for  that,  and  while  this  treatment  is  best  for  large 
birds,  I  am  not  sure  but  it  would  be  best  for  smaller 
ones. 

Of  the  cinnamon  teal  I  know  nothing,  but  have 
owned  and  bred  both  the  blue-wing  and  the  green- 
wing.  If  there  is  a  wild  duck  that  inherits  less  fear 
of  man  than  these  two  teal  I  don't  know  it.  Of  the 
two,  perhaps  the  slightly  larger  blue-wing  is  quicker 
to  make  friends  with  man,  but  here  is  a  story  of  the 
green-wing. 

At  the  New  York  fish-hatching  station  at  Cold 
Spring  Harbor,  Long  Island,  I  had  a  fair  collection  of 
my  pets.  There  was  a  long,  no-account  pond  made  by 
throwing  up  a  highway,  and  in  this  the  tide  rose  and 


BREEDING    WILDFOWL.  539 

fell.  A  picket  fence  on  one  side  and  poultry  netting 
on  the  other,  held  a  few  ducks,  some  green-wing  teal 
among  them.  Every  day,  and  several  times  a  day,  I 
took  them  watercress,  duckweed,  lettuce,  cabbage,  or 
other  delicacies,  in  addition  to  their  grain  and  animal 
food,  and  always  talked  to  the  birds  as  they  fed. 
Talking  is  a  most  important  thing  in  the  domestica- 
tion of  wildfowl,  as  it  is  in  the  training  of  domestic 
animals.  The  talk  was  always  the  same :  ''Hello,  little 
birds ;  I  never  did  see  such  pretty  little  birds ;  come  up 
here  and  get  some  good  things."  There  was  no 
thought  that  the  words  would  be  understood,  but  there 
was  finally  a  distinct  connection  between  them  and  the 
feeding,  so  that  when  the  corduroy  working  coat  was 
left  off,  and  a  morning  trip  to  the  city  in  frock  coat 
and  ''nail-keg"  hat  was  in  order,  the  flock  would  fol- 
low me  when  I  was  outside  the  picket  fence,  if  I  saluted 
them  with :  "Hello,  little  birds,"  etc. 

May  came,  and  the  flock  was  short  one  female  green- 
wing.  With  an  anathema  on  all  minks  and  weasels, 
there  was  work  to  be  done  in  the  hatchery,  and  the 
little  teal  was  forgotten,  until  one  morning  she  ap- 
peared on  the  pond  with  four  fluffy  little  balls  of  down, 
about  as  big  as  a  piece  of  soap  after  a  hard  day's  w^ash- 
ing.  They  could  swim  well,  and  had  implicit  con- 
fidence in  their  mother,  who  evidently  thought  them 
young  teal,  but  they  could  have  taken  refuge  in  a  10- 
bore  gun  with  room  to  spare.  I  called  the  men  from 
the  hatchery,  and  we  netted  the  family  out.  Mr.  Teal 
was  off  conviving  with  friends,  and  paid  no  attention 


540  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

to  the  raid  on  his  family;  but  Mrs.  Teal,  when  cap- 
tured, looked  up  at  me  and  remarked :  "Quack,  quack," 
and  was  answered  in  the  same  language.  This  was 
satisfactory,  and  when  she  was  put  in  a  special  pool 
with  her  young,  she  seemed  to  realize  that  man  was 
not  only  her  friend,  but  the  friend  of  all  that  she  held 
most  dear,  and,  mother-like,  w^ould  give  her  life  for. 

As  the  blue-wing  teal  is  the  easiest  to  approach  of 
all  wild  ducks,  so  their  young  are  naturally  tame.  I 
would  much  like  a  chance  to  try  the  effect  of  keeping 
the  young  of  both  these  teal  without  pinioning,  as  has 
been  done  with  mallards. 

I  have  bred  more  of  the  wood  duck  than  any  other 
species.  When  I  began  the  work  they  were  the  only 
wild  ducks  that  I  could  get  in  quantity.  They  were 
netted  in  great  numbers  in  Michigan  for  market,  and 
as  I  would  pay  several  times  the  market  price,  I  bought 
large  numbers,  and  helped  stock  zoological  gardens  in 
Europe.  In  the  late  '60' s  and  early  '70's  not  one  bird  in 
ten  would  lay  eggs  for  me,  but  I  raised  a  few.  Then, 
when  I  left  Honeoye  Falls,  N.  Y.,  in  1876,  the  flock 
had  to  be  disposed  of.  From  that  time  until  1883  I 
had  no  country  home,  where  my  pet  fancy  could  be  re- 
sumed. Then  these  birds  were  scarce,  the  once  prolific 
Michigan  lake  where  Northern-bred  birds  stopped  to 
feed  on  their  way  South  in  early  fall  no  longer  paid 
the  netters,  but  I  got  a  few. 

I  doubt  if  this  bird  can  ever  be  domesticated.  I 
learned  how  to  breed  them  with  certainty,  but  after 
being  bred  for  ten  generations  in  confinement,  they 


BREEDING    WILDFOWL.  54 1 

would  escape,  if  possible,  and  never  return.  They  dis- 
trust man  after  he  once  catches  them  to  pinion  them, 
when  a  few  weeks  old.  They  have  been  so  tame  as  to 
run  to  meet  me  with  a  dish  of  bread  and  milk,  or  other 
food,  and  climb  into  it  and  feed  greedily  until  once 
taken  in  hand.  Then  they  became  suspicious.  No 
bird  likes  to  be  taken  in  hand.  The  stiff  quills  must 
hurt  when  pressed  into  the  flesh.  Pigeon  men  handle 
their  birds  by  a  grip  on  the  wings  close  to  the  body; 
ducks  should  be  so  handled.  Domestic  hens  may  be 
handled  by  the  legs.  The  man  who  takes  a  duck  by 
the  legs  will  have  a  crippled  bird  that  must  be  killed, 
for  their  legs  are  weak,  and  all  attempts  to  heal  a 
broken  leg  by  splints  or  plaster  bandages,  by  me,  have 
been  failures,  but  then  it  is  recorded  that  I  am  not  a 
surgeon. 

On  a  later  trial  of  breeding  these  birds,  there  was  a 
train  of  thought  something  like  this :  In  nature  every 
female  breeds;  with  me  it  has  been  only  one  in  ten; 
the  climate  is  right,  for  they  breed  here;  the  trouble 
must  be  in  the  food.  In  western  New  York  I  have 
fed  corn,  wheat,  rye  and  oats,  with  such  vegetation  as 
lettuce,  purslane,  "pusley,"  young  cabbage,  water- 
cress and  duckweed,  all  of  which  they  were  very  fond 
of,  yet  they  laid  their  eggs  sparingly.  Evidently  some- 
thing was  lacking,  and  then  the  fact  that  they  had  been 
seen  to  pick  insects  from  overhanging  leaves,  eat  frog 
spawn  and  gobble  up  polly-wogs  and  snails  as  well  as 
small  frogs,  suggested  that  what  was  needed  to  round 
out  their  natural  diet  was  animal  food.     The  new  ra- 


542  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

tion  having  been  issued  in  the  next  February,  there 
was  rejoicing  in  April  and  May,  when  every  pair  of 
wood  ducks  began  nesting. 

All  the  wildfowl  of  my  acquaintance  nest  on  the 
ground,  with  the  following  exceptions:  some  "tree 
ducks"  of  Central  and  South  America,  wood  ducks, 
Chinese  mandarins  and  the  pretty  little  "hooded  mer- 
ganser," also  called  "little  saw  bill."  If  the  other  mer- 
gansers, or  "sheldrakes,"  nest  in  trees,  I  do  not  know, 
but  suspect  them  of  it. 

The  ducks  which  nest  on  the  ground  may  be  left  to 
their  own  devices,  if  you  give  them  a  chance  for  se- 
clusion, but  for  those  which  nest  in  hollow  trees  we 
must  provide  natural  conditions.  Take  a  box  12  inches 
high  by  7  inches  square  inside,  tight  on  all  sides,  but 
with  a  round  4-inch  hole  in  the  middle  of  one  side, 
set  it  on  a  post  2  feet  above  ground,  with  a  slanting 
board  leading  to  the  hole,  in  which  fine  straw  and 
leaves  are  placed,  and  the  bird  will  do  the  rest.  The 
male  wood  duck  and  mandarin  will  stand  guard  at 
the  entrance  for  a  while,  but  tire  of  it  before  the  four 
weeks  are  up,  and  abandons  the  job.  Some  males  in- 
jure the  young,  and  it  is  best  to  remove  the  drakes  be- 
fore hatching.  I  have  had  two  broods  in  a  season  by 
removing  the  first  nesting  eggs,  but  otherwise  one 
brood  is  the  rule.  The  male  moults  in  June,  and  will 
not  take  any  part  in  a  second  brood;  he  then  resembles 
the  female,  and  does  not  get  his  bright  plumage  again 
until  August.  Young  drakes  show  red  on  the  bill  at 
two  months  old. 


BREEDING    WILDFOWL.  543 

Hens  are  useless  for  hatching  the  small,  tender 
ducks,  and  the  little  woodie  is  very  tender.  The 
young  ducks  come  to  her  for  shelter,  and  she  kicks 
them  to  death  by  scratching  for  them.  I  have  lost 
several  broods  in  this  way.  Then  I  got  the  "call 
ducks,"  those  dwarf,  or  bantam,  mallards  bred  in  Hol- 
land for  calling  wildfowl — cute  little  ducks,  the  female 
being  persistently  noisy  if  separated  from  her  mate — 
but  the  "calls"  were  not  broody  when  I  wanted  them  to 
be,  or  I  did  not  have  enough  of  them. 

The  first  year  a  wood  duck  has  four  to  six  eggs,  the 
next  year  eight  to  twelve.  The  greatest  number  that 
I  ever  got  from  one  was  seventeen. 

Some  writers  claim  that  the  mother  takes  them  in 
her  bill  and  others  say  that  she  carries  them  on  her 
back.  I  had  a  string  of  pens  back  of  my  house — a  pair 
in  each,  for  they  are  better  to  be  separated — and  usually 
I  found  the  mother  and  her  brood  on  the  water  in  the 
morning;  but  on  two  occasions  I  saw  them  leave  the 
nest.  The  mother  went  first  to  the  pool  and  called: 
she  had  brooded  them  for  twenty-four  hours,  or  more, 
and  they  were  strong.  Then  one  after  another  the 
little  things  climbed  out  of  the  box  and  tumbled  to  the 
ground,  or  to  the  water. 

They  had  to  climb  4  to  6  inches  of  plain  board,  but 
they  did  it.  I  have  seen  them  climb  a  lo-inch  base 
board  and  go  through  a  i-inch  poultry  netting  when 
alarmed.  They  weigh  nothing  worth  mentioning,  and 
they  have  claws  as  sharp  as  cambric  needles.  They 
have  pricked  my  hands  until  they  bled  when  pinioning 


544  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

them  at  eight  weeks  old.  I  can  easily  believe  that  they 
can  climb  up  a  hollow  tree  and  drop  20  feet  into  the 
grass  without  injury.  What  need  of  such  sharp  claws 
and  climbing  ability  if  not  for  leaving  the  nest  ? 

I  once  had  a  wood  duck  that  climbed  3  feet  of  poul- 
try netting  by  aid  of  wings,  and  then  sat  on  the  selvage 
wires,  which  were  less  than  ^  inch  in  diameter,  and 
this  shows  how  small  a  thing  their  feet  can  grasp. 
She  went  outside  into  a  swamp  every  day,  and  tried  to 
coax  her  mate  out,  but  he  wouldn't,  or  couldn't,  and 
she  gave  it  up  and  nested  in  the  box  provided  for  her. 
Usually  there  was  a  3-inch  strip  on  top  of  the  netting  to 
prevent  this. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  mandarin  duck.  It  is  a  Chinese 
bird  that  in  everything  but  color  is  a  wood  duck.  The 
prevailing  hue  with  them  is  old  gold.  The  male  has 
two  ''fans"  on  its  wings,  broad-webbed  single  feathers, 
which  it  can  erect,  swan  fashion.  Tastes  differ  in 
comparing  the  mandarin  with  our  native  bird;  the 
colors  are  not  so  bright,  but  there  is  the  softness  of  hue 
which  we  admire  in  Oriental  rugs. 

The  redhead  is  bred  in  Europe,  where  it  is  known  as 
"pochard,"  but  the  canvas-back  they  have  not.  I  had 
many  inquiries  for  this  bird  from  over  the  water,  and 
went  to  Havre  de  Grace,  Md.,  to  try  to  get  cripples  or 
netted  birds,  but  got  only  promises.  The  gunners 
there  get  $3,  and  over,  a  pair  for  them,  and  I  offered 
$15,  and  would  take  ten  pairs,  but  got  none. 

The  widgeon,  both  American  and  European,  I  have 
had,  but  never  bred  from  them ;  the  minks  would  not 


BREEDING    WILDFOWL. 


545 


permit  it.  The  pintail  I  bred  once,  but  lost  the 
brood. 

If  I  ever  try  to  breed  our  beautiful'  wildfowl  again, 
the  pools  will  be  made  mink-proof  by  a  brick  or  stone 
foundation  2  feet  under  ground,  and  i  foot  above  it. 
The  fence  on  this,  with  inviting  openings  for  a  mink 
to  enter  and  remain  in  a  trap  tmtil  he  has  an  interview 
with  me. 

Mr.  Wilton  Lockwood,  of  Boston,  Mass.,  is  an  en- 
thusiastic devotee  of  wildfowl  breeding  and  has  had 
great  success,  but  I  am  unfamiliar  with  the  details  of  his 
work. 


BLINDS,  BATTERIES  AND  BOATS. 


HOW  BLINDS  ARE  MADE, 


In  duck  shooting  a  blind  is  anything  that  conceals 
the  gunner  from  the  birds.  It  may  be  a  pit,  or  a  sunk- 
en barrel,  or  a  fringe  of  leaves  or  bushes,  or  a  pile  of 
ice  cakes,  or  a  stone  wall ;  but  whatever  it  is,  it  must  be 
something  to  which  the  birds  are  so  far  accustomed 
that  they  will  not  notice  it  as  markedly  different  from 
the  rest  of  the  landscape  and  so  be  suspicious  of  it. 

Of  late  years  various  artificial  blinds  have  been  de- 
vised. One  is  a  screen  made  of  burlap,  behind  which 
the  gunner  hides.  Burlap  is  of  precisely  the  proper 
color  for  a  blind  in  autumn  or  spring,  but  an  obvious 
objection  to  putting  up  a  more  or  less  tight  screen  of 
this  sort  is  that  when  the  wind  blows,  as  one  always 
hopes  it  will  when  he  is  duck  shooting,  the  blind  is  likely 
to  be  carried  away,  or  at  least  to  be  flattened  to  the 
ground. 

Another  artificial  blind  is  a  coat  and  hood  made  of 
grass.  This  turns  the  gunner  into  what  looks  like  a 
Robinson  Crusoe,  but  we  can  imagine  that  under  some 
conditions  it  may  be  a  useful  disguise. 

Along  the  South  Atlantic  coast,  the  commoner  forms 

546 


HOW    BLINDS    ARE     MADE.  547 

of  blinds  are  made  from  the  reeds  or  bushes  of  the 
marsh  along  which  point  shooting  is  done.  On  the 
great  lakes  and  rivers  of  the  North,  blocks  of  ice  or 
heaps  of  snow  are  used  for  winter  shooting;  and  for 
fall  shooting,  hiding  places  composed  of  flat  stones  laid 
up  into  a  wall,  and  built  so  early  in  the  season  that 
when  the  ducks  arrive  in  their  migrations,  they  see  the 
blinds  and  become  accustomed  to  them  as  natural  feat- 
ures of  the  landscape.  In  the  West,  weeds,  cornstalks, 
straw  and  other  material  commonly  found  in  the  fields 
may  be  used  in  the  construction  of  blinds. 

The  bough  houses  in  the  Chesapeake  Bay  are  built 
early,  and  being  unoccupied  until  the  shooting  season 
begins,  have  no  terrors  for  the  ducks,  which  have  be- 
come accustomed  to  them.  These  bough  houses  are 
commonly  built  over  the  water — often  at  quite  a  long 
distance  from  the  shore — by  driving  down  four  stout 
poles  until  they  are  solidly  fast  in  the  mud  or  soil,  con- 
necting these  poles  by  strips  of  scantling  or  two-inch 
stuff,  placing  a  flooring  of  plank  on  this  frame,  and 
then,  at  the  height  of  three  and  a  half  or  four  feet 
above  the  flooring,  tacking  a  railing  to  the  corner  posts. 
Over  the  four  sides  of  this  structure,  boughs  of  ever- 
greens— cedar  or  pine — are  tacked  so  as  to  conceal  the 
fresh  lumber  and  the  persons  within  the  blind.  On 
the  fourth  side,  which  usually  faces  toward  the  shore, 
a  door  or  passageway  is  left  for  ingress  and  egress. 
Often  the  water  in  the  neighborhood  is  baited.  Such 
bough  houses  are  provided  with  chairs,  shelves  for  am- 
munition and  other  conveniences. 


548  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

The  bush  bhnds  of  the  eastern  shore  of  Virginia,  of 
Back  Bay,  Currituck  Sound,  and  the  other  sounds  to 
the  southward,  which  are  to-day  such  favorite  resorts 
for  fow^l,  are  much  simpler.  As  a  rule,  the  waters  are 
very  shoal,  and  the  bush  blinds  consist  of  nothing  more 
than  a  number^  of  stiff  pine  branches,  with  the  foliage 
still  attached,  shoved  down  into  the  water  close  to  the 
sides  of  the  gunner's  skiff.  After  he  has  tied  out  his 
decoys,  he  poles  his  skiff  into  the  open  end  of  this 
cluster  of  surrounding  bushes,  and,  crouching  down, 
is  perfectly  concealed  from  the  birds,  except  when  they 
are  immediately  above  him.  As  the  bush  blinds  are 
often  built  on  the  feeding  grounds,  they  are  likely  to 
interfere  greatly  with  the  comfort  of  the  fowl,  which 
perhaps  pass  from  one  bush  blind  to  another,  con- 
stantly shot  at  as  they  sweep  over  the  decoys,  and  if 
they  find  all  their  feeding  grounds  occupied,  may  fly 
a  long  way,  and  for  some  time  afterward  shun  the 
places  where  they  have  been  so  fusilladed. 

As  the  goose  shooter  in  the  West  digs  his  pit  in  the 
stubble,  so  the  goose  shooter  in  the  East  occupies  his 
goose  box,  which  may  be  wholly  above  land  or  water 
or  may  consist  of  a  cask  or  box  deeply  sunk  in  the  edge 
of  the  marsh  or  in  the  mud  flat.  In  either  case  the  gun- 
ner is  wholly  out  of  sight  until  he  rises  to  shoot,  and 
the  birds  have  no  warning  whatever.  In  character, 
these  devices  thus  are  approaches  to  the  battery  or 
sink-box  and  the  sneak  boat,  which  are  floating  en- 
gines sunk  so  nearly  to  the  water  level  that  they  cannot 
be  seen  until  the  birds  are  immediately  over  them. 


THE     BATTERY.  549 


THE   BATTERY. 

The  battery  is  a  watertight  box,  just  long,  wide  and 
deep  enough  to  contain  a  man  lying  down,  set  in  the 
middle  of  a  solid  platform  which  floats  it.  From  one 
end  and  the  two  sides  of  the  platform,  wings — loosely 
hinged  to  the  sides  so  that  they  may  rise  and  fall  with 
the  w^aves — run  out  over  the  water.  Usually  all  about 
the  margin  of  the  box  are  narrow  screens  of  sheet  lead 
which,  when  turned  up,  oppose  four  or  six  inches  of 
height  to  any  wave  that  by  chance  may  break  over  the 
wings  and  deck,  and  so  keep  the  water  out  of  the  box 
in  which  the  gunner  is  reclining.  The  deck  and  its 
wings  should  be  as  near  the  level  of  the  water  as  pos- 
sible, and  to  this  end  the  box  must  be  ballasted ;  more 
weight,  of  course,  being  required  for  a  light  man  than 
for  a  heavy  one.  On  the  platform  commonly  rest  a 
number  of  decoy  ducks,  cast  from  iron,  to  sink  it  to  its 
proper  level.  At  the  head  end  of  the  box,  there  is 
often  what  is  called  a  head-board,  a  little  pillow  of 
wood  to  raise  the  gunner's  head,  so  that  his  eyes  are 
just  above  the  level  of  the  box. 

The  battery  is  commonly  anchored  on  the  feeding 
ground,  head  to  the  wind,  and  the  decoys  are  put  out 
about  it  and  strung  away  to  leeward,  though  most  of 
them  are  on  the  side  of  the  box  toward  which  the  gun- 
ner shoots.  (See  diagram  facing  page  434.)  The 
fowl  coming  up  to  the  decoys  are  expected  to  fly  over 
those  to  leeward,  and  to  the  left,  and  the  gunner,  as 
they  come,  rises  to  a  sitting  position  and  shoots. 


550  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Sometimes  double  batteries — to  be  used  by  two  men 
— are  employed. 

Boxes  are  sometimes  made  about  four  feet  square 
at  the  water's  level,  and  four  feet  deep,  the  sides  slop- 
ing inward  toward  the  bottom,  so  that  there  the  box 
is  only  about  eighteen  inches  square.  There  is  a  small 
platform,  and  there  are  small  wings,  a  seat,  and  a  shelf. 
There  is  abundant  room  to  get  down  out  of  sight  if  the 
birds  are  coming. 

A  better  notion  of  the  battery  and  its  constructions 
will  be  had  by  referring  to  the  plans  and  specifications 
given  herewith.  The  gunner's  comfort  depends  large- 
ly on  the  box,  and  it  should,  therefore,  be  constructed 
of  the  best  material — that  is  to  say,  of  white  pine  or 
white  cedar — and  be  absolutely  tight.  The  ends  of  the 
box  may  be  of  the  same  material  as  the  sides,  but 
should  be  thicker.  Sometimes  the  ends  are  made  of 
white  oak,  one  and  a  half  inch  thick.  Running 
across  the  platform  at  the  head  and  the  foot  of  the 
box,  are  two  oak  timbers  firmly  bolted  to  either  end 
of  it.  These  should  be  six  inches  longer  than  the  plat- 
form is  wide,  and  should  project  three  inches  on  either 
side,  thus  offering  some  support  to  the  side  wings,  and 
not  leaving  the  hinges  to  bear  all  the  strain.  The  plat- 
form should  be  well  fitted  and  tight,  and  battens  may 
be  nailed  across  the  boards  at  either  end  of  the  plat- 
form, and  one  on  either  side  of  the  box,  running  out 
to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  and  firmly  braced  to  the 
box  by  angle  irons. 

In  old  times  the  wings  were  made  of  boards  hinged 


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PLAN   OF  SINGLE  BATTERY TOP  AND  END  VIEWS. 


552  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

together,  but  they  did  not  keep  down  the  sea,  were 
noisy,  and  had  other  objections.  The  modern  battery 
differs  from  that  of  old  times  chiefly  in  its  head  wing, 
or  head  fender,  as  it  is  often  called.  This  is  a  piece  of 
canvas  nearly  square,  stained  gray,  and  as  wide  as  the 
platform  and  the  two  side  wings,  which  is  tacked  to 
four  or  five  strips  of  wood  which  keep  it  floating 
on  the  water,  the  strips  lying  under  the  canvas.  The 
color  of  the  canvas  should  be  made,  as  nearly  as  pos- 
sible, that  of  the  water  in  which  the  battery  is  to 
be  used.  To  the  middle  of  the  last  strip — that  is 
to  say,  the  one  furthest  from  the  battery — an  an- 
chor rope  is  tied,  to  which  the  anchor  is  fastened. 
When  the  battery  is  rigged,  this  anchor  is  thrown 
overboard  and  the  head  fender  is  unrolled  to  its  full 
length.  This  is  commonly  done  by  using  a  light 
boat-hook  ten  feet  long.  The  point  of  the  boat-hook 
is  inserted  in  the  hole  through  which  the  anchor  rope 
is  fastened,  and  the  head  fender  is  thus  forced  away 
from  the  battery  until  it  lies  flat  upon  the  water; 
then  by  using  the  boat-hook  as  a  pole  and  shoving 
on  the  bottom,  the  battery  is  pushed  to  leeward  un- 
til the  anchor  rope  is  taut.  The  battery  will  usually 
then  swing  so  that  the  head  fender  is  directly  to  wind- 
ward of  the  battery.  But  sometimes — for  example, 
when  the  tide  is  running  at  right  angles  to  the  wind, 
and  the  w^ind  is  light — it  may  be  necessary  to  use  the 
boat-hook  to  overcome  the  force  of  the  tide,  and  to 
anchor  the  battery  in  its  proper  position. 

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PLAN  OF  DOUBLE  BATTERY TOP  AND  END  VIEWS. 


554  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

runs  out,  and  to  this  a  stone  is  attached  for  a  foot  an- 
chor. This  is  thrown  overboard  after  the  head  anchor 
rope  is  taut,  and  this  holds  the  battery  head  and  foot. 
The  foot  anchor  is  within  reach  of  the  gunner  occupy- 
ing the  box,  and  the  stone  is  used  because  it  can 
easily  be  hauled  up,  while  often  an  anchor  could  not  be 
lifted.  In  case  of  a  change  of  wind,  this  arrangement 
enables  the  gunner  to  trip  the  foot  anchor  and  let  the 
battery  swing  with  the  wind.  He  can  then  throw  out 
his  foot  anchor  again,  and  still  have  his  battery  prop- 
erly adjusted  to  the  wind. 

If,  however,  there  should  be  a  decided  change  in  the 
direction  of  the  wind,  both  battery  anchors  must  be 
lifted,  and  the  battery  towed  around  to  a  new  position 
and  the  decoys  rearranged  to  suit  the  change. 

When  the  battery  is  on  board  the  sloop,  the  head 
fender  is  rolled  up  and  rests  on  the  battery's  deck, 
being  secured  by  a  stop  at  each  end. 

A  boat-hook  is  a  necessary  implement  with  a  battery. 
It  should  be  light  but  strong,  and  it  is  a  good  plan  to 
mark  the  staff,  from  the  point  of  the  hook  up  the  pole, 
with  a  scale  in  feet  and  half  feet,  so  that  it  can  be  used 
as  a  sounding  rod  to  ascertain  the  proper  depth  of 
water  to  rig  in  on  the  flat.  This  depth  rarely  exceeds 
six  feet,  the  average  being  perhaps  four  and  a  half 
feet.  The  boat-hook  is  kept  in  the  stool  boat,  but  it  is 
a  great  convenience  to  have  in  the  box  a  rod  just  short 
enough  to  lie  in  the  box,  and  armed  with  a  hook  at 
one  end.  Such  a  rod  is  very  convenient  in  hauling  up 
the  tail  stone,  or  pulling  in  the  side  fenders,  or  regulat- 


THE     BATTERY.  555 

ing  the  decoys  near  the  battery.  It  is  especially  nec- 
essary when  the  tail  stone  has  been  pulled  out  on  ac- 
count of  some  slight  shift  of  wind,  and  the  decoys  must 
be  reset  alongside  of  the  battery. 

Most  single  batteries  are  equipped  with  eight  iron 
duck  decoys,  each  weighing  about  twenty-three  or 
twenty-five  pounds.  The  wxight  of  the  gunner,  of 
course,  regulates  the  number  of  these  to  be  used,  and 
the  weather  conditions  may  also  have  a  bearing  on  this, 
since,  sometimes  by  removing  a  few  of  the  iron  decoys, 
a  battery  may  be  used  in  quite  rough  water,  although 
the  ducks  will  not  come  up  as  well  if  the  battery  stands 
high. 

Double  batteries  require  an  increased  number  of  the 
iron  duck  decoys,  or  sometimes  the  number  is  lessened, 
and  side  weights,  weighing  usually  fifty-six  pounds — 
and  bybatterymen  called  56's — are  hung  on  the  timbers 
of  the  battery  platform  under  the  side  fenders.  These 
are  cut  away  on  the  end,  so  as  to  be  somewhat  notched, 
and  the  weight  is  hung  by  a  looped  rope.  A  hook, 
something  like  a  cotton-hook,  is  used  to  lift  these 
weights  off  and  on. 

Since  the  gunner  reclines  in  the  box,  it  is  evider 
that  any  water  which  may  enter  it  will  cause  him  dis- 
comfort ;  it  is  therefore  the  practice  to  have  a  bottom- 
board  of  some  light  stuff,  about  the  length  of  the  box, 
but  less  wide  by  one  quarter  of  an  inch  on  either  side, 
so  that  the  water  which  enters  may  flow  down  under 
it.  This  board  is  raised  above  the  box  by  very  thin 
cross  strips  tacked  to  it,  and  at  its  lower  end  it  is  cut 


556  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

in  two,  so  that  a  piece,  perhaps  a  foot  long,  may  be 
raised  to  bail  out  water  if  it  should  become  necessary. 
On  the  top  of  the  bottom-board,  perhaps  ten  inches 
from  the  head  of  the  box,  a  narrow  strip  is  tacked, 
which  holds  the  edge  of  the  slanting  head-board,  which 
lifts  the  gunner's  head  so  that  he  can  see  over  the  top 
of  the  box. 

Most  batteries  of  to-day  have  in  them  a  head-board 
— just  referred  to — that  is  to  say,  a  slanting  board 
running  from  the  end  of  the  box  down  to  the  bottom, 
at  a  gentle  angle,  which  serves  as  a  pillow  to  lift  the 
batteryman's  head  high  enough  so  that  his  eyes  are 
above  the  edge  of  the  box.  Upon  this  head-board  may 
be  placed  a  rubber  pillow,  but  most  men  use  an  old  coat 
or  something  of  the  sort  to  rest  the  head  on. 

The  method  of  setting  out  decoys  in  battery  shoot- 
ing has  been  described  and  illustrated  already. 

SPECIFICATIONS   FOR  DOUBLE  AND    SINGLE  BATTERIES. 

Boxes — Inside  length,  6  ft.  3  in.  to  6  ft.  6  in.;  inside  width,  at 

top  22  in.,  at  bottom  18  in. ;  depth,  14  in. ;  sides,  i  in.  thick ; 

ends,  I  1-4  in.  thick;  bottom,  i  in.  thick  and  laid  crosswise. 

Boxes  pinned  to  platform  by  locust-wood  pins,  two  to  head 

and  two  to  foot  of  each  box. 
Platforms — Beams,  2  in.  thick  and  4  in.  deep  at  centre,  with  i 

in.  crown  to  upper  side;  deck,  i  in.  thick. 
Head  Fenders — Battens,  i  in.  thick  and  4  in.  wide,  with  canvas 

tacked  on  top. 
Side  Fenders — Frame  of  i  1-2  in.  strips  from  3  to  6  in.  wide, 

as  per  plans,  with  canvas  tacked  on  top. 
Fenders  joined  to  platform  by  hinges  of  leather  or  canvas. 
Sheet  Lead  6  in.  wide  to  be  tacked  around  edges  of  boxes,  to  be 

bent  as  required  when  seas  wash  over  the  platform. 


SKIFFS     AND     SNEAK     BOATS.  SS7 


SKIFFS  AND  SNEAK  BOATS. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  much  about  gunning 
skiffs,  for  there  are  almost  as  many  sorts  of  these  as 
there  are  places  where  gunning  is  practiced.  Usually 
the  gunners  of  each  locality  have  developed  for  them- 
selves the  form  of  a  boat  best  suited  to  their  needs,  and 
as  a  rule  the  wandering  sportsman  may  have  confidence 
in  the  boat  of  the  locality. 

On  the  New  England  coast,  the  commonest  gunning 
skiff  is  flat-bottomed,  partly  decked  over,  but  with  a 
roomy  cockpit  protected  by  combings.  A  much  larger 
vessel  of  the  same  type  is  used  on  the  southern  broad- 
waters.  These  skiffs  are  good  and  serviceable  boats, 
both  speedy  and  stiff.  Sometimes,  on  the  New  Eng- 
land coast,  one  will  see  one  of  the  little  flat  sculling 
boats  shaped  like  a  pumpkin  seed,  flat  in  the  water,  and 
just  about  long  enough  for  a  man  to  lie  in.  In  the 
South,  open,  flat-bottomed  skiffs  drawing  very  little 
water  are  used,  or  sometimes  dug-outs.  One  of  the 
most  useful  boats  for  general  purposes,  and  one  which 
has  a  wide  popularity  North  and  South,  is  the  Barne- 
gat  sneak  box.  It  can  be  sailed,  or  rowed  or  poled, 
and  may  also  be  used  somewhat  like  a  battery,  being 
sunk  almost  to  the  water's  level  by  taking  sand  or 
water-bags  aboard,  and  concealed  by  spreading  sand  or 
dead  grass  on  the  flat  deck. 

On  some  waters  gunners  carry  rubber  bags  in  their 
boats,  and  when  they  reach  the  ground,  fill  the  bags 


558 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


with  water,  and  placing  them  on  either  side  of  the 
centreboard  trunk,  sink  the  sneak  boat  until  its  deck  is 
awash. 

The  following  description  of  one  of  these  boats  is 
taken  from  Forest  and  Stream: 


SNEAK    BOAT. 

a,   a — apron,    i,   i,   i  shows  where  it  is  nailed  to  deck,     h,  h — 

Cockpit,     c — Trunk,     d,  d,  d — Stool  rack,  e,  e — Rowlocks.     Fig. 
4  shows  rowlocks. 


Length,  12  feet;  width  amidships,  4  feet;  width  of 
stern,  2  feet  g\  inches ;  depth  of  stern,  7  inches.  Sprung 
timbers,  all  of  one  pattern,  9-16  x  13-16  inch;  distance 
apart,  8  inches ;  deck  timbers,  natural  bend,  i  x  7-9  inch. 


SKIFFS    AND     SNEAK     BOATS.  559 

Cockpit,  inside  measurement,  length,  3  feet  4  inches; 
width  at  bow  and  stern,  18J  inches;  amidships,  19 
inches.  Combing,  height  of  inside  at  bow  and  stern, 
2f  inches ;  amidships,  2  inches.  From  bottom  of  comb- 
ing to  top  of  ceihng,  13  inches.  Trunk  on  port  side, 
set  slanting  to  take  a  15-inch  board  trunk  placed  along- 
side and  abaft  of  forward  corner  of  combing.  Boards 
of  boats,  white  cedar,  f  inch;  deck,  narrow  strips, 
tongued  and  grooved.  Rowlocks,  height,  6  inches, 
from  combing,  9  inches;  middle  of  to  stern,  4  feet  7 
inches,  made  to  fold  down  inboard  and  to  fasten  up 
with  a  hook.  Stool  racks  run  from  rowlocks  to  stern, 
notched  at  ends  into  fastenings  of  rowlocks,  also 
notched  at  corners  and  hooked  together,  rest  against  a 
cleat  on  deck  outside,  and  are  hooked  to  the  deck  in- 
side. In  a  heavy  sea  the  apron  is  used.  It  is  held  up 
by  a  stick  from  peak  to  combing.  Thus  rigged,  the 
boat  has  the  reputation  of  being  able  to  live  as  long 
as  oars  can  be  pulled.  The  apron  is  tacked  to  the  deck 
about  two-thirds  its  length.  The  wings  are  fastened 
to  the  top  and  bottom  of  the  rowlocks.  Mast  hole,  2f 
inches;  2  inches  from  combing.  Drop  of  sides  from 
top  to  deck,  5|-  inches ;  dead-rise,  8  inches.  Over  cock- 
pit a  hatch  is  placed.  Everything  connected  with  the 
boat  is  placed  inside,  gunners  often  leaving  their  guns, 
etc.,  locking  the  hatch  fast.  The  boats  sail  well  and, 
covered  with  sedge,  are  used  to  shoot  from.  With  the 
hatch  on,  a  person  can  be  protected  from  rain ;  and  with 
blankets,  can  be  accommodated  with  a  night's  lodging. 
A  variety  of  boats  and  canoes  used  on  the  lakes  and 


56o  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

waterways  of  Illinois,  Indiana,  Wisconsin  and  Michi- 
gan are  described  and  figured  below,  substantially 
from  an  article  which  appeared  in  Forest  and  Stream 
in  the  year  1890. 

There  are  a  number  of  boats  which  may  claim  the 
old  Indian  birch  in  their  ancestry.  Some  of  the  duck 
shooters  of  Canada  use  a  "Rice  Lake  canoe,"  which  is 
near  about  a  white  man's  canoe,  without  the  teeteriness 
and  skittishness  of  the  birch,  though  a  lighter  goer 


NEE-PE-NAUK  BOAT. 

among  the  rushes.  Something  like  a  birch  is  the  idea 
of  the  Nee-pe-nauk  boat,  used  by  the  Chicago  club  men 
on  the  Northern  Fox  River, 

This  is  a  smooth-skinned  boat,  and  the  skin  is  made 
by  screwing  one  longitudinal  piece  directly  upon  an- 
other, the  boat  being  formed  upon  a  mold.  There  are 
no  ribs  in  the  boat,  and  no  braces  except  under  the  deck, 
fore  and  aft  of  the  cockpit.  The  deck  is  light,  and  the 
cockpit  ample  for  paddling,  which  is  the  method  of  pro- 


SKIFFS     AND     SNEAK     BOATS.  561 

pulsion.  About  the  cockpit  is  a  folding  canvas  comb- 
ing, which  can  be  raised  in  case  of  a  sea.  The  boat 
sits  low  in  the  water.  It  is  stiff,  easy-going  and  suit- 
able for  its  purpose,  which  includes  a  long  journey 
daily  to  and  from  the  club  house,  partly  in  open  water. 
The  birch  canoe  folded  and  closed  at  the  ends  and 
provided  with  cockpit  and  combing,  a  sort  of  kayak 
model  indeed,  may  have  been  in  the  mind  of  Mr.  Alex. 
T.  Loyd,  of  the  Grand  Calumet  Heights,  of  Chicago, 
when  he  devised  the  racy  lines  of  what  we  may  call  the 
Loyd  boat. 


LOYD  BOAT. 

This  is  a  slender  and  graceful  craft,  about  18  feet  in 
length.  It  is  provided  with  out-riggers  and  is  very 
speedy  under  oars,  being  really  a  better  river  runner 
than  marsh  boat.  Under  sail  it  is  very  fast  and  stiff, 
being  provided  with  a  keel  which  is  detachable  at  will 
At  night  the  captain  of  the  boat  usually  employs  the,' 
keel  as  the  ridge  pole  of  his  boat  tent,  simply  reversing 
the  position  of  the  rods  which  fasten  it  in  position. 
The  owner  of  this  boat  has  two  or  three  airtight  cases 
stowed  fore  and  aft  under  the  decking,  and  these  would 
float  the  boat  strongly  if  it  were  overturned,  which, 
however,  it  has  not  yet  been.     This  boat  was  born  of  a 


562  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

necessity  which  impHed  long  daily  journeys  over  open 
water,  which  was  often  rough,  and  it  has  often  been 
cut  when  the  whole  fleet  of  marsh  boats  were  storm- 
bound. 

The  birch  canoe  is  a  creature  of  the  past.  The  dug- 
out is  the  aboriginal  boat  of  the  South.  A  queer  little 
craft  is  the  St.  Francis  River  (Missouri)  dug-out,  and 
this  is  the  type,  too,  of  the  boats  used  on  the  great  New 
Madrid  duck  marsh  and.  in  much  of  Arkansas. 

V  ./ 


SASSAFRAS  DUG-OUT. 

This  boat  is  made  of  sassafras,  and  its  size  depends 
much  upon  the  size  of  the  tree  handy  to  the  builder. 
The  boat  is  only  10  feet  long  and  about  10  inches  deep, 
and  as  wide  as  the  tree  was.  It  is  perfectly  flat  on  top, 
the  ends  being  simply  spoon-shaped.  It  has  no  seats. 
For  leakiness  and  tipsiness  it  is  hard  to  beat. 

A  very  highly  finished  and  graceful  dug-out  is  the 
little  Mexican  pirogue,  which  parts  the  waters  before 
the  paddle  of  the  hunter  of  the  far  Southwest.  Our  illus- 
tration is  taken  from  a  little  boat  made  by  some  Latin 
hand  near  Vera  Cruz,  Mexico.     This  pretty  little  dug- 


SKIFFS    AND     SNEAK     BOATS.  563 

out — for  such  a  thing  is  possible — was  used  by  Mr. 
George  T.  Farmer,  of  Chicago,  as  a  marsh  and  river 
boat  in  duck  shooting.     It  is  12  feet  long  and  14  inches 


MEXICAN  CYPRESS  PIROGUE. 


deep.     The  thin  edge  is  strengthened  by  a  light  strip 

for  a  rail.     This  is  an  easy  sort  of  boat  to  fall  out  of. 

Up  on  Wolf  River,  in  Wisconsin,  they  have  a  hunt- 


V^OLF  RIVER  CANOE. 


ing  and  trapping  canoe,  for  paddling  or  pushing,  which 
is  an  odd-looking  but  serviceable  boat.  It  is  16  feet 
long  and  about  20  inches  deep.     It  is  decked  about 


564  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

3I  feet  fore  and  aft  of  the  cockpit,  which  is  protected 
by  a  combing. 

This  beat  is  cUnker-buih,  but  it  has  only  three  strips 


BOB  STANLEY^  FOX  LAKE^  ILL. 

on  each  side,  the  bottom  being  of  one  or  two  boards. 
It  answers  well  the  requirements  of  its  locality. 

On  the  open  waters  of  Fox  Lake,  a  boat  is  needed 
which  can  on  occasion  stand  a  good  deal  of  sea  and  pos- 


BOB  STANLEY. 


sibly  some  ice^  and  a  good  deal  of  wind.  Mr.  Bob 
Stanley,  an  old-timer  on  that  lake,  had  this  in  mind, 
doubtless,  when  he  constructed  the  wonderful  and  pon- 
derous inland  ship,  with  which  he  sometimes  plows 


SKIFFS     AND     SNEAK     BOATS.  565 

the  main  while  in  quest  of  a  pot  shot  at  the  wily  can- 
vas-back of  that  country.  It  is  greatly  to  the  credit  of 
this  boat  that  it  can  carry  sail. 

In  the  Illinois  River  country,  and  among  the  sturdy 
duck  hunters  who  shoot  early  and  late  each  year  there, 
and  therefore  meet  high  waters  and  often  fields  or 
floes  of  tough,  keen  ice,  we  will  find  another  type  of 
boat  evolved  from  such  environment.     This  is  the  Illi- 


SENACHWINE  IRON   SKIFFo 

nois  River  or  Lake  Senachwine  sheet-iron  skiff,  which 
all  shooters  of  that  region  pronounce  a  boat  well 
adapted  to  their  purposes.  This  boat  is  well  shown  in 
the  cut.  It  is  about  16  feet  long,  stiff  and  beamy,  and 
weighs  from  75  or  100  pounds  to  150.  It  is  sometimes 
made  with  airtight  compartments,  but  the  natives  scorn 
this  model,  which  is  too  heavy.  The  iron  skiff  must 
be  kept  free  from  a  breaking  sea.     It  is  valuable  when 


566  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

it  comes  to  an  ice  field,  and  is  about  as  good  a  slod  as  it 
is  a  boat. 

The  Hennepin  duck  boat,  which  is  used  in  much  the 
same  waters  as  the  above,  is  rather  more  of  a  fair- 
weather  boat,  but  is  a  very  good  marsh  boat  for  punt^ 
ing,  being  built  with  a  long  and  roomy  cockpit.  It  can 
also  be  put  under  oars.  This  is  a  local  boat,  and  is 
built  by  Mr.  James  Cunningham,  the  keeper  of  the 
Hennepin  Club. 


HENNEPIN  DUCK  BOAT. 

A  very  popular  and  very  good  marsh  boat  is  that 
C(mimcnly  known  among  duck  shooters  as  the  **Moni- 
tor'*  model,  or  more  commonly  still,  as  the  "Green  Bay 
boat."  This  is  a  light,  shallow  craft,  intended  for  no 
form  of  propulsion  but  the  push-paddle  or  punting- 
pole.  It  is  15  feet  in  length,  34  inches  in  width,  and 
only  7  inches  deep.  Its  cockpit  runs  long  fore  and  aft 
to  give  the  pusher  room.     Its  total  weight  is  75  or  80 


SKIFFS     AND     SNEAK     BOATS.  567 

pounds.  This,  or  Mr.  Douglas'  worthy  and  not  very 
dissimilar  "W'aukegan  boat,"  is  the  boat  most  used  on 
the  Kankakee  marshes  of  Indiana.  It  is  good  for  a 
long  journey  up  the  shallow  streams  and  bayous,  and 
in  the  covered  marsh  its  well-fashioned  bow  parts  the 


MONITOR  MARSH  BOAT. 


rushes  and  rides  down  the  drift  about  as  well  as  any 
boat  could  do.  The  Green  Bay  is  no  deep-water  boat, 
and  is  not  calculated  for  sail  or  sea. 

There  is  a  pretty  little  red  cedar  boat  made  at  De 


DE  PERE  RED  CEDAR  BOAT. 

Pere,  Wis.,  which  is  also  the  place  where  the  Green  Bay 
boat  is  made.  This  latter  boat  weighs  only  64  pounds, 
is  15  feet  long,  32  inches  beam,  and  9  inches  deep.  The 
cockpit  in  this  boat  is  not  so  long,  but  the  craft  is  a 
very  tidy  one. 


568 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


The  Mississippi  scull  boat  is  a  solid  and  sturdy  craft. 
It  is  of  the  "pumpkin-seed"  type  and  similar  to  a  like 
boat  used  on  the  Atlantic  coast. 

The  boat  sits  low  and  has  often  more  deck  than 
shown  in  this  cut.  On  this  deck  may  be  piled  the  sedge, 
brush  or  ice  which  is  used  as  a  blind. 


MISSISSIPPI  SCULL  BOAT. 


Somewhat  similar  in  character  is  the  Koshkonong 
(Wis.)  flatboat,  but  every  sink  boat  and  sneak  boat 
shooter  will  at  once  catch  the  idea.  Twelve  feet  long 
and  8  feet  across  its  wide  "wings,"  this  vehicle  lies 
awash  with  most  of  its  bulk  beneath  the  surface. 
The  shooter  lies  in  the  box,  below  the  level  of  the  water. 
This  is  a  light  cover  or  open-water  boat,  and  is  usually 
towed  to  the  shooting  point. 


SKIFFS    AND     SNEAK     BOATS. 


569 


The  "Koshonong  Monitor"  is  a  businesslike  duck 
boat.  Its  deep  canvas  covering  can  be  raised  or  lower- 
ed at  will,  and  forms  a  protection  alike  against  sea  or 
wind.  It  is  not  a  bad  rowing  boat  and  slips  easily 
though  the  rushes  and  weeds.  The  rowlocks  are  ship- 
ped in  two  upright  sections  of  gaspipe,  which  offer  no 


KOSHKONONG  FLATBOAT. 

entanglements  to  grass  or  reeds,  and  permit  easy  un- 
shipping of  the  oars.  The  deck  of  this  boat  is  some- 
times made  of  canvas,  though  wood  or  tin  may  be  used. 
The  boat,  with  its  load  on  board,  sits  low  in  the  water 
and  attracts  little  attention.     There  are  two  or  three 


KOSHKONONG  MONITOR. 


varieties  of  this  boat  made  about  Lake  Koshkonong, 
but  all  conform  practically  to  the  type  shown.  They 
are  heavy  boats,  usually  sheathed  with  tin.  They  are 
suitable  for  use  on  a  shallow  inland  lake. 

The  Tolleston  Club,  whose  grounds  lie  on  the  marshy 
Little  Calumet,  below  Chicago,  has  a  light,  little,  three 


570 


DUCK   SHOOTING. 


or  four  board  boat,  on  rather  a  simple,  home-made 
model.  It  has  no  ribs  or  knees,  and  only  one  thwart, 
with  a  seat  in  the  stern  for  a  paddler,  the  latter  seat 
coming  pretty  well  up  flush  with  the  gunwale.  This 
boat  paddles  easily  on  the  river  and  punts  well  on  the 
marsh.  It  is  a  good  deal  like  just  a  plain  boat,  but  it 
is  a  very  well-made,  cheap  boat. 

The  shooters  at  Grand  Calumet  Heights  Club,  on 
Lake  Michigan,  sometimes  use  an  odd  craft  in  shooting 


TOLLESTON  BOAT. 

ducks  on  the  open  lake.  On  a  low-lying  platform, 
something  like  the  Koshkonong  flatboat,  they  build  a 
deep  cockpit,  or  roofless  cabin,  whose  walls  are  about 
3  feet  high.  About  the  sides  of  this  they  arrange 
brush  or  material  for  a  blind,  and  anchor  the  boat  out 
in  deep  water,  the  decoys  being  arranged  by  means  of 
another  boat.  This  craft  is  called  the  "Merganser" 
boat.  It  will  take  a  heavy  sea,  but  is  unwieldy  and 
unmanageable. 

Over  on  the  Canada  line  they  have  two  or  three  dis- 


SKIFFS     AND     SNEAK     BOATS. 


571 


tinct  types  of  boat.  The  Point  Mouille  boat  is  a  double- 
ender,  decked,  made  of  three  boards,  sides  and  bottom, 
built  Hght  and  shallow,  and  a  bird  of  a  boat  on  the 
marsh.  The  open- water  shooting  of  the  St.  Clair  Flats 
is  done  from  a  very  light  and  shallow  sneak,  much  like 
a  condensed  and  etherealized  Koshkonong  flatboat. 
This  boat  is  intended  to  lie  fairly  awash  in  the  water, 
and  the  shooter  lies  in  it  on  his  back.  They  call  this  a 
'1ying-out  boat." 


^mm 


a 


NORTH  CANOE. 


The  North  canoe  closely  resembles  the  ordinary  birch 
bark,  but  is  said  to  be  even  more  easily  propelled.  It 
is  used  on  some  of  the  northern  waters  in  duck  shooting 
as  well  as  in  fishing  and  travelling.  Although  requir- 
ing a  certain  amount  of  practice  in  its  use,  it  is  easily 
handled  and  a  useful  boat.  ^ 

The  boats  made  for  the  use  of  the  duck  shooter  are 
many.  They  are  constructed  of  cedar,  canvas,  metal, 
and  other  material,  and  all  have  their  good  points  and 
may  be  used  to  advantage  in  certain  localities.  Over 
a  country  as  wide  as  the  United  States  it  is  impossible 
to  recommend  any  one  type  of  boat  for  all  waters. 


572  .    DUCK    SHOOTING. 


OTHER    CRAFT. 

As  a  rule,  on  inland  waters,  the  purpose  of  the  gun- 
ner's boat  is  merely  to  transport  him  and  his  parapher- 
nalia from  place  to  place.  Along  the  seacoast,  the 
case  is  somewhat  different,  since  it  may  often  be  nec- 
essary to  travel  considerable  distances  in  the  vessel, 
when  speed  and  staunchness  are  of  most  importance. 

Whatever  type  of  boat  the  gunner  uses,  he  must  not 
forget  that  it  must  be  made  as  inconspicuous  as  pos- 
sible, and,  therefore,  he  will  see  that  it  is  painted  as 
nearly  as  may  be  the  color  of  its  surroundings.  For 
the  broad  and  shallow  bays  of  the  South,  it  should  be 
the  color  of  the  mud  flats ;  in  other  localities,  the  color 
of  dead  grass.  For  winter  shooting,  white ;  and  so  on 
through  the  range  of  the  natural  colors. 

The  gunner  who  visits  a  special  locality  year  after 
year,  will  be  likely  to  provide  himself  with  as  good  a 
boat  as  possible  for  the  particular  shooting  that  he  is 
to  engage  in,  and  will  fit  it  with  everything  necessary 
to  his  comfort.  Just  what  these  different  things  are, 
he  will  know  better  than  any  one  else. 


ICE   WORK. 

In  many  parts  of  the  country,  where  duck  shooting 
is  carried  on  over  wide  waters,  which  from  time  to 
time  are  frozen,  and  over  which  it  is  therefore  more 


ICE    WORK.  573 

or  less  difficult  to  get  about,  a  light  freeze  is  not  very 
troublesome.  The  gunner,  standing  in  the  stern  of 
the  skiff,  throws  the  boat's  nose  out  of  the  water,  and 
pushes  her  up  on  the  ice,  which  before  long  breaks 
under  her  weight,  and  he  then  pushes  her  forward 
again.  All  very  thin  ice  can  be  shoved  through,  but  ii 
is  necessary  where  much  work  is  done  in  the  ice  to  have 
the  boat  sheathed  with  light  copper  from  her  nose,  on 
both  sides,  to  beyond  the  swell.  If  this  is  not  done, 
the  ice  will  cut  the  sides  and  leave  them  ragged  with 
splinters,  which  makes  the  boat  hard  to  row  or  sail. 
Sometimes,  however,  the  ice  may  become  so  thick  that 
the  boat  can  neither  be  shoved  through  nor  over  it, 
and  when  the  bow  is  pushed  up  onto  the  ice,  it  hangs 
there,  or,  at  most,  merely  bends  down  the  ice  without 
breaking  through.  On  the  other  hand,  over  warm 
springs,  and  in  places  where  the  current  moves  a  little, 
the  ice  may  be  so  thin  that  it  will  not  support  a  man's 
weight.  It  is  sometimes  recommended  that  iron  shoes 
be  fastened  to  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  that  it  may  be 
shoved  over  the  ice  by  the  gunner,  who  walks  behind 
holding  to  the  stern.  In  case  he  comes  to  an  air-hole, 
or  a  weak  spot,  he  can  then  draw  himself  aboard  the 
skiff.  This  does  not  appear  to  be  a  profitable  way  of 
arranging  for  ice  work.  The  ordinary  gunning  skiff, 
with  its  wide  beam,  made  to  hold  a  great  stand  of  de- 
coys, two  or  three  men,  and  possibly  some  goose  coops 
in  forward,  is  too  large  to  be  used  on  the  ice. 

Much  better  than  this  is  to  have  a  very  small  and 
light  skiff  for  ice  work,  and  fitted  to  the  bottom  of  the 


574  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

skiff,  but  removable  at  pleasure,  a  sled,  with  runners 
on  each  side,  on  which  the  skiff  can  be  set.  Then,  by 
means  of  a  light,  long  pole,  shod  with  a  small  boat- 
hook,  the  gunner  can  rapidly  shove  himself  over  the 
ice  in  all  directions;  can  visit  air-holes,  and  can  have 
the  comfort  of  being  on  board  his  boat  the  whole  time. 
Short  uprights  on  the  sides  of  the  sled  may  fit  against 
two  narrow  cleats  tacked  on  either  side  of  the  skiff; 
or  slight  protuberances  on  the  runners  of  the  sled  may 
fit  into  slight  hollows  in  the  bottom  of  the  skiff,  the 
weight  of  the  boat  and  its  load  always  keeping  the 
skiff  firm  on  the  sled.  Or,  on  the  same  light  skiff,  may 
be  tacked  shoes  running  nearly  the  whole  length  of  the 
bottom  on  either  side  and  provided  with  runners  of 
half-round  steel. 

With  an  arrangement  of  this  kind,  we  have  known 
men  to  cross  ten  or  twelve  miles  of  dangerous  broad- 
waters  with  little  exertion,  and  with  absolutely 
no  danger,  where  days  of  the  hardest  kind  of  work 
would  not  have  brought  a  gunning  skiff  across,  and 
where  the  men  would  have  been  obliged  constantly  to 
leave  the  boat,  and  expose  themselves  at  least  to  the 
danger  of  getting  wet,  if  not  of  drowning. 

While  these  narrow  and  light  skiffs  will  not  carry 
a  great  load,  they  are  large  enough  to  hold  a  couple  of 
men,  their  guns  and  ammunition,  and  a  few  decoys. 
They  should  be  used  only  in  ice  work,  however,  as  they 
are  so  frail  and  cranky  that  they  would  not  live  in 
rough  waters.  On  some  of  the  southern  broad-waters, 
in  Maryland,  Virginia  and  North  and  South  Carolina, 


ICE    WORK.  575 

freezes  occur  every  year,  which  are  often  hard  enough 
to  make  ice  in  which  a  common  gunning  skiff  cannot 
be  used ;  and  this  often  puts  an  end  to  the  gunning  of 
many  men  who  are  not  prepared  for  ice  work,  and  at 
the  very  time  when  the  fowl  are  likely  to  be  most 
abundant,  and  most  easily  obtained  by  those  prepared 
to  go  out  for  them. 


THE   DECREASE   OF  WILDFOWL. 


The  constant  decrease  of  the  number  of  our  wild- 
fowl is  a  subject  of  frequent  complaint  by  gunners 
whose  memory  goes  back  twenty-five  or  thirty  years. 
They  compare  the  scarcity  of  to-day  with  the  abundance 
of  old  times,  and  continually  inquire  why  it  is  that  the 
birds  are  growing  yearly  less  and  less  in  number. 

Various  explanations  of  the  change  are  given.  The 
blame  is  laid  on  the  market-shooter,  on  the  supposed 
destruction  of  birds  and  eggs  on  the  northern  breeding 
grounds,  and  on  supposed  changes  in  the  lines  of  flight 
by  the  migratory  birds,  but  most  gunners  are  unwilling 
to  accept  the  logic  of  events  and  to  acknowledge  that 
the  principal  cause  of  the  lessened  number  of  the  fowl 
lies  with  the  gunners  themselves,  and  is  an  inevitable 
accompaniment  of  civilization,  not  to  be  changed  ex- 
cept by  radical  measures.  Many  of  these  men,  no 
doubt,  merely  repeat  what  they  have  heard  other  people 
say,  but  there  are  others  who  advance  these  remote 
causes  through  pure  selfishness,  realizing  that  if  they 
admit  the  enormous  destruction  by  gunners  they  must 
logically  advocate  the  abridgment  of  the  shooting  sea- 
son, which  means  the  abolition  of  spring  shooting. 

One  of  the  most  grotesquely  fantastic  explanations 
of  the  scarcity  of  wildfowl  was  put  forth  several  years 
ago  in  the  newspapers,  and  was  soon  afterward  fathered 
by  a  society  bearing  the  impressive  name,  National 

576 


THE    DECREASE    OF    WILDFOWL.  577 

Game,  Fish  and  Bird  Protective  Association.  This 
story  told  of  an  enormous  destruction  of  wildfowl 
eggs  in  the  Northwest  for  commercial  purposes;  m.il- 
lions,  shiploads  and  trainloads  of  such  eggs,  it  was 
gravely  related,  being  annually  gathered  in  Alaska  and 
British  America,  and  shipped  thence  to  points  in  the 
East,  where  they  were  manufactured  into  Qgg  albumen 
cake;  The  story  took  with  the  newspapers,  and  those 
who  had  fathered  it  were  eager  to  be  interviewed  and  to 
tell  what  they  said  they  knew  about  it.  They  even  in- 
duced a  Senator — the  Hon.  John  H.Mitchell,  of  Oregon 
— to  make  a  speech  in  the  Senate  on  Alaskan  &gg  de- 
struction, and  to  ask  for  an  appropriation  of  $5,000  for 
the  purpose  of  sending  some  one  to  Alaska  to  find  out 
more  about  it.  Incidentally,  another  Senator,  the  Hon. 
H.  Cabot  Lodge,  of  Massachusetts,  introduced  and 
pushed  through  Congress  a  bill  forbidding  the  importa- 
tion of  the  eggs  of  wild  birds,  with  the  result  that  now 
if  any  man  wants  to  import  from  England  the  eggs  of 
pheasants,  partridges,  black  game  or  capercailzie  for 
hatching  out  birds  to  stock  his  land,  he  finds  that  the 
law  forbids  him  to  do  so. 

In  1895,  Forest  and  Stream  set  on  foot  an  investiga- 
tion to  learn  what  truth  there  was  in  the  story;  what 
was  the  basis,  if  any,  for  the  alarming  statistics  quoted ; 
whether  an  abuse  that  required  checking  actually  ex- 
isted. The  climax  was  reached  when  the  president  of 
the  Protective  Association  already  named  gave  out  to 
a  Chicago  newspaper  a  quotation  from  the  report  of  a 
certain  Mr.   Storey,  who  at  that  time  was  the  local 


578  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

secretary  of  the  association  for  Oregon.  Among  other 
things,  Mr.  Storey  said  :  ''Another  work  that  has  been 
pushed  by  your  secretary  for  this  State,  and  in  which  I 
am  now  prepared  to  ask  your  hearty  cooperation,  is  the 
protection  from  egg-hunters  of  our  wildfowl  breeding 
grounds  in  Alaska.  A  careful  investigation  shows  that 
millions  of  eggs  are  gathered  and  shipped  from  these 
grounds  annually,  and  countless  numbers  of  partly  ma- 
tured eggs  destroyed.  I  have  furnished  our  United 
States  Senator,  the  Hon.  Jno.  H.  Mitchell,  with  the 
proper  information  relating  to  the  above  facts,  and  if 
the  State  secretaries  of  this  association  wiir bring  the 
matter  before  their  several  Senators  at  Washington, 
asking  them  to  cooperate  with  vSenator  Mitchell,  I  am 
sure  the  effect  will  be  for  the  best." 

It  was  obvious  that  if  anything  approaching  the 
quantity  of  eggs  mentioned  were  shipped  each  season 
from  railroad  points  on  the  North  Pacific  coast,  some 
one  would  know  about  it.  There  would  be  a  great 
coastwise  traffic  in  these  eggs;  trains  of  merchandise 
are  not  loaded  up  at  night  and  shipped  off  secretly  to 
unknown  consignees,  nor  are  shiploads  of  eggs  re- 
ceived from  foreign  countries  without  entry  at  the  Cus- 
tom House.  A  man  does  not  start  from  the  shores  of 
the  Arctic  seas  with  an  tgg  in  his  pocket,  come  down 
a  thousand  miles  or  so  to  the  border  line,  smuggle  the 
^gg  across,  and  then  go  back  for  another.  Yet  a  care- 
ful inquiry  among  the  persons  who  professed  to  know 
most  about  this  subject,  and  who  were  most  eager  to 
be  quoted  on  it,  elicited  no  information  whatever. 


THE    DECREASE    OF    WILDFOWL,  579 

Mr.  Storey  was  asked  for  facts  bearing  on  the  mat- 
ter, but  never  responded.  No  one  could  be  found  who 
had  knowledge  of  any  such  trade.  Nothing  definite 
was  written  about  the  matter,  and  no  particle  of  evi- 
dence was  ever  brought  forward  to  show  that  such 
trade  existed.  No  names  were  given  of  those  who 
gathered  the  eggs  or  shipped  them,  nor  of  the  con- 
signees to  whom  they  went,  nor  of  the  vessels  by  which 
they  arrived,  nor  of  the  people  who  received  the  eggs 
and  manufactured  them.  There  was  never  a  word  of 
detail,  not  a  scintilla  of  evidence — just  a  series  of  gen- 
eralities about  millions  and  carloads  of  duck  eggs,  set 
in  a  glittering  frame  painted  over  with  pictures  of  the 
far-stretching  tundra  and  the  on-moving  clouds  of 
ducks,  geese,  swans  and  auks. 

In  the  Forest  and  Stream's  investigation,  inquiry 
was  made  first  of  the  transportation  lines;  second,  at 
the  custom  houses,  and  third,  of  those  persons  con- 
cerned with  the  manufacture  of  commercial  albumen, 
where  these  carloads  and  shiploads  of  millions  of  eggs 
were  supposed  to  be  consumed. 

It  was  found  that  the  transcontinental  railway  lines, 
by  which  of  necessity  the  wildfowl  eggs  must  have 
reached  the  East,  had  never  transported  any.  Inquiry 
at  the  different  custom  ports  showed  that  wildfowl  eggs 
had  never  been  imported  through  any  of  the  custom 
houses  along  our  northern  or  northwestern  border; 
and,  finally,  the  largest  manufacturers  of  albumen  in 
this  country  stated  that  practically  all  the  albumen 
product  used  in  this  country  was  obtained  in  Russia, 


580  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

Germany  and  France,  where  hens'  eggs  are  very  cheap. 
Albumen  is  used  chiefly  for  food  purposes,  most  of  it 
in  the  making  of  cakes  and  candies,  and  one  pound, 
worth  from  48  to  50  cents,  represents  a  product  of  150 
eggs,  or  about  4  cents  a  dozen.  At  the  time  when  this 
story  was  going  the  rounds,  photography  was  extreme- 
ly popular,  and  almost  every  one  carried  a  camera.  The 
men  who  occupied  themselves  in  retailing  the  story 
about  Alaska  duck  eggs  declared  that  the  most  of  the 
albumen  from  these  eggs  was  used  in  the  manufacture 
of  sensitized  paper.  Yet  a  little  inquiry  showed  that  at 
that  time  comparatively  little  albumen  was  used  in  pho- 
tography, since  gelatine  and  other  materials  had  even 
then  almost  entirely  taken  its  place. 

This,  then,  was  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter : 
Those  who  professed  to  have  information  on  the  sub- 
ject were  unable  to  substantiate  the  stories  which  they 
told;  the  transportation  companies  have  carried  no 
such  eggs;  none  have  ever  been  received  at  the  ports  of 
entry;  the  albumen  trade  knows  nothing  whatever 
about  them,  and,  in  view  of  the  total  lack  of  evidence 
to  support  the  story,  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  is  a  pure 
invention. 

The  situation  is  very  well  summed  up  by  Mr.  Wm. 
W.  Castle,  of  Boston,  Mass.,  who,  in  a  letter  in  Forest 
and  Stream,  said :  "My  opinion  is  that  more  eggs  are 
destroyed  in  the  Mississippi  Valley  by  the  spring  shoot- 
ers— a  thousand,  or  even  ten  thousand,  to  one — than  it 
would  be  possible  to  destroy  in  any  collection  that  could 
be  carried  out,  even  if  eggs  were  worth  $1  a  dozen,  at 


THE    DECREASE    OF    WIEDFOWL.  581 

the  breeding  grounds.  Wildfowl,  while  gregarious  in 
migration,  are  by  no  means  so  in  breeding.  *  *  * 
I  have  seen  miles  of  country  (barren)  in  the  North- 
west that  to  a  superficial  observer  might  seem  to  be  a 
vast  breeding  ground,  but  would  really  hold  but  few 
birds  in  comparison  to  its  apparent  capabilities,  and 
even  those  which  were  to  be  seen  flying  about  were  by 
no  means  all  breeders. 

''With  sea  fowl  it  might  be  different,  but  my  experi- 
ence on  the  Pacific  has  been  that,  with  few  exceptions, 
there  are  no  such  breeding  grounds  accessible  to  any 
one  commercially  disposed  as  there  have  been  on  the 
Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  and  Labrador  coast.  I  thought 
at  the  time  that  the  matter  of  commercial  ^gg  destruc- 
tion was  opened  up,  that  it  was  simply  a  weak  invention 
of  those  who  are  butchering  spring  birds  to  throw  dust 
and  endeavor  to  blind  people  as  to  the  real  cause  of  de- 
crease, viz.,  spring  shooting." 

Another  correspondent  of  Forest  and  Stream,  writ- 
ing from  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  made  some  statements  with 
regard  to  the  destruction  of  birds  in  the  swamps  of 
Missouri  and  Arkansas  which  are  worth  quoting.  He 
said:  ''I  have  read  with  much  interest  your  article 
pertaining  to  the  gathering  of  wild  duck  eggs  for  com- 
mercial purposes.  The  theory,  whenever  mentioned, 
never  fails  to  produce  audible  smiles.  *  *  *  The 
secret  of  decimated  ranks  lies  more  with  those  fortu- 
nate enough  to  get  where  ducks  are,  and  with  the  mar- 
ket-shooter in  particular,  who  is  on  the  ground  all  the 
time.     No;  wild  ducks  are  not  all  dead  yet,  not  if  we 


582  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

may  judge  from  the  vast  multitudes  to  be  seen  in  the 
swamps  of  the  sunk  land  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas. 

'In  October  of  '94  a  party  of  four  from  this  city, 
and  four  from  Cincinnati,  shot  over  one  thousand 
ducks  in  one  week,  and,  from  the  hordes  still  seen,  it 
did  not  look  as  if  any  were  missing.  To  the  average 
amateur,  the  piles  of  ducks  would  have  looked  like 
three  times  the  quantity,  as  nine-tenths  of  them  were 
choice  mallards. 

"Nor  were  these  all  the  ducks  shot  in  this  quiet  and 
celebrated  spot  that  week.  Five  market-hunters  were 
in  there  all  the  time,  and  in  this  particular  week  aver- 
aged from  80  to  140  ducks  per  day  each. 

"A  netter  was  also  at  work,  who  made  a  shipment  of 
twenty  barrels  of  mallards  at  one  time.  Again,  to  the 
average  amateur,  or  even  to  the  semi-professional,  this 
may  sound  fishy.  If  the  receipts  of  the  steamboat  which 
brought  the  ducks  to  this  market  will  be  proof,  they 
can  be  produced.  The  netter  made  no  more  shipments, 
for  the  natives  forced  him  out  of  the  country  with  Win- 
chesters.    *     *     *" 


CAUSES. 

Two  prime  causes  exist  for  the  diminution  of  wild- 
fowl. These  are  over-shooting,  and  the  settling  up  of 
the  country. 

The  abuses  under  the  head  of  over-shooting  which 
ought  to  be  corrected  are  : 


CAUSES.  583 

(a)  Shooting-  seasons  far  too  long;  in  some  States 
lasting  from  September  to  May,  or  for  eight  months  of 
the  year.  The  ducks  are  shot  from  the  time  they  arrive 
from  the  North  in  the  fall  until  they  leave  for  the 
North  in  the  spring. 

(b)  Methods  that  are  too  destructive,  as  batteries, 
night  shooting,  bush  blinds,  sailing. 

(c)  Big  bags  by  sportsmen  who  shoot  for  recrea- 
tion. 

(d)  Shooting  for  market.  Certain  men  devote  all 
their  time  while  the  fowl  are  with  us  to  shooting  them 
for  sale  to  game  dealers.  Often  they  kill  by  methods 
that  are  illegal. 

In  consequence  of  the  diminution  of  the  number  of 
our  birds,  other  causes  which  were  formerly  trivial 
have  assumed  a  greater  relative  importance.  Two  of 
these  are  the  destruction  of  eggs  and  fowl,  young  and 
old,  on  their  breeding  ground,  by  natives,  and  poison- 
ing by  lead  taken  in  with  the  food.  The  last,  though 
odd  and  unexpected,  is  not  sufficiently  destructive  to 
require  serious  consideration. 

Up  to  the  year  i860,  gunning  was  practiced  by  com- 
paratively few  individuals  in  this  country,  and  they 
were  not  enough  to  make  any  considerable  impression 
on  the  hordes  of  wildfowl  that  had  always  thronged 
our  lakes,  streams  and  bays.  During  the  five  years  of 
the  Civil  War,  all  Southern  ducking-grounds,  and  most 
of  those  in  the  North,  had  almost  complete  rest,  and 
the  number  of  fowl  killed  was  inconsiderable.  They 
had  time  during  these  years  of  almost  no  shooting  to 


584  DUCK     SHOOTING. 

re-establish  themselves,  and  to  fill  the  gap  in  their  ranks 
that  had  been  made  in  earlier  years.  Witnesses  who 
visited  southern  ducking-grounds  in  1865  tell  of  the 
countless  number  of  fowl  then  found  there,  and  of  their 
tameness.  They  say,  too,  that  then  there  were  no  gun- 
ners, and  that  the  only  birds  killed  were  a  few  shot  by 
the  residents  for  their  own  consumption. 

At  this  time  the  West  was  practically  unknown,  and, 
of  course,  unsettled.  Beyond  the  Missouri  River  there 
were  no  white  inhabitants.  Over  the  vast  extent  of 
territory  between  the  Mississippi  and  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains the  fowl  bred  undisturbed,  and  in  their  migra- 
tions passed  to  and  fro  over  a  territory  where  they 
were  not  molested.  If  there  was  an  occasional  army 
post  in  that  wild  region,  its  presence  there  had  no 
effect  on  the  ducks  and  geese,  for  the  shotgun  was  un- 
known, and  the  man  who  desired  sport  or  food  took 
his  rifle  and  hunted  four-footed  game. 

But  gradually  a  change  came.  Settlements  increased 
along  the  lines  of  travel ;  railroads  were  built  into  new 
territory;  ranchers  began  to  take  up  land  in  regions 
away  from  the  railway,  and  each  newcomer  made  the 
country  less  possible  for  the  wild  creatures  that  had 
hitherto  inhabited  it  or  passed  through  it.  Concur- 
rently wnth  all  this,  came  the  greatly  increased  interest 
in  shooting,  by  which  the  number  of  the  gunners  was 
many  times  multiplied.  As  their  numbers  increased, 
they  soon  shot  out  the  old  places  to  which  the  fowl  had 
always  resorted,  and  were  forced  to  search  out  new 
localities  of  game  plenty.    Let  us  see  with  what  result. 


CAUSES.  585 

In  1880,  travelers  over  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad 
learned  that  during  the  migration  geese  resorted  in 
vast  flocks  to  the  Platte  River,  and  gunners  began 
to  go  in  great  numbers  to  Nebraska  for  the  goose- 
shooting.  They  brought  back  marvelous  tales  of  the 
abundance  of  the  fowl,  and  soon  the  gunners  gathered 
on  the  sand  bars  of  the  Platte  in  such  numbers  as,  after 
a  time,  to  almost  line  the  river.  In  1884,  Mr.  Burr 
Polk,  a  contributor  to  Forest  and  Stream,  wrote :  'The 
gunners  have  so  increased  in  the  last  three  years  that 
the  weary  goose,  coming  down  from  the  North,  or  in 
from  the  fields,  to  rest  and  slake  its  thirst,  can  hardly 
find  a  place  out  of  the  range  of  some  one's  gun.  Blinds 
line  the  bars  in  the  stream  for  one  hundred  miles  so 
thickly  as  to  preclude  all  chance  of  a  fair  bag.  A  flock 
of  geese  coming  into  the  river  can  rarely  strike  it  at 
any  point  without  a  volley  being  fired  at  it,  and  as  the 
terror-stricken  fowl  move  on  up  stream,  hunting  a 
place  of  safety,  their  progress  can  be  marked  by  the 
booming  of  the  guns  as  they  pass  the  gauntlet  of  blinds 
along  their  course. 

''We  first  tried  the  river  at  Newark,  but  after  slight 
scores,  and  having  our  blinds  robbed  one  night  of 
nearly  all  of  our  decoys  and  game,  we  pulled  up  and 
drove  twenty  miles  down  the  river  along  the  bank  in 
quest  of  some  unoccupied  spot.  But  none  was  to  be 
found.  Hunters  were  quartered  at  farm-houses  or 
camping  in  tents  on  both  sides  of  the  river  at  short  in- 
tervals. As  we  went  down  we  met  parties  going  up, 
in  the  hope  that  had  actuated  us.    The  result  of  all  this 


586  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

is  to  break  up  the  habit  of  the  geese  of  loitering  on  the 
Platte  in  their  flight  southward,  and  to  hurry  them  on 
their  journey  where  they  can  at  least  rest  one  day  in 
peace.  The  chances  are  that,  if  this  wholesale  hunting 
of  them  is  continued  for  another  year  or  two,  they  will 
seek  other  lines  in  their  migrations,  and  that  we  will 
never  again  see  geese  on  the  Platte  in  great  numbers. 
At  the  station,  where  we  took  the  train  coming  home, 
we  met  a  couple  of  gentlemen  who  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  going  out  on  the  Platte  annually  after  geese. 
This  year  they  had  occupied  blinds  just  above  us.  They 
told  us  that  one  day  neither  of  them  got  a  shot." 

In  1885,  the  same  correspondent  told  a  similar  story. 
He  said  that  the  geese  had  not  come  as  usual  to  the 
Platte  River,  nor  had  they  appeared  much  about  the 
lakes  and  ponds,  nor  in  the  corn  fields  of  the  farmers, 
as  had  been  their  habit  in  former  years;  nor,  indeed, 
had  many  been  seen  in  flight  going  southward  over 
this  region.    He  then  adds,  naively : 

"No  one  seems  to  be  able  to  account  for  this  sudden 
diminution  of  wild  geese  along  the  Platte.  It  never 
occurred  to  me  that  it  would  happen  during  my  life- 
time. There  are  various  theories  regarding  it.  One 
is,  that  they  have  taken  a  different  line  in  their  migra- 
tion southward ;  another,  that,  as  the  country  has  set- 
tled up  further  northward,  and  grain  has  been  grown 
there,  they  stop  along  the  lakes  in  that  region,  and  re- 
main because  they  are  not  disturbed ;  another,  that  they 
did  come  down  here,  but  as  every  farmer  had  a  gun,  to 
pop  away  at  them  in  the  fields  where  they  went  to  feed. 


CAUSES.  587 

and  the  bars  in  the  river  were  covered  with  gunners, 
they  hurried  southward  to  seek  peace  and  rest;  and 
still  another,  that,  through  the  despoiling  of  their  eggs 
in  their  nesting-grounds,  and  the  spring  and  fall  killing 
of  the  fowl  by  the  myriads  of  hunters,  their  ranks  had 
become  so  depleted  they  could  no  longer  make  the  big 
display  of  former  years.    I  do  not  know,  I  am  sure. 

"Pretty  much  the  same  may  be  said  with  reference 
to  ducks.  Indeed,  the  falling  off  in  their  case  has  been 
greater  than  that  of  the  geese.  I  have  not  heard  of  a 
creditable  bag,  even  by  the  most  successful  hunters.  If 
they  have  come  this  way  in  any  considerable  numbers, 
they  have  done  it  so  slyly  and  quietly  that  none  of  us 
has  been  aware  of  their  presence.  We  people  of  this 
part  of  Nebraska  have  begun  to  realize  that,  like  our 
more  eastern  friends,  if  we  want  to  do  much  success- 
ful work  among  the  ducks,  we  will  have  to  seek  other 
regions  for  the  sport.  How  quickly  do  the  settlement 
of  a  country,  and  the  modern  gun,  cause  the  game  to 
disappear !" 

The  writer  of  these  paragraphs  had  evidently  forgot- 
ten in  1885  that  one  year  earlier  he  had  himself  given 
ample  reasons  for  the  disappearance  of  the  geese,  and, 
in  fact,  had  predicted  that  disappearance.  Indeed,  it 
was  only  ten  years  before  the  date  of  his  earlier  letter 
that  the  buffalo  along  the  Platte  had  been  destroyed  in 
precisely  the  same  manner  that  the  geese  were.  Half 
a  dozen  years  earlier  than  1874,  people  had  talked  con- 
stantly of  the  millions  of  buffalo,  of  the  impossibility 
of  ever  exterminating  them,  and  of  how  they  would 


588  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

continue  to  roam  the  plains  for  many,  many  years; 
but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  took  only  three  or  four  years 
to  destroy  these  millions  in  this  region.  Of  course, 
after  a  time,  migratory  wildfowl  learn  to  avoid  regions 
where  they  are  continually  persecuted,  and,  no  doubt, 
this  has  been  the  case  with  the  geese  and  the  ducks 
which  formerly  spent  weeks  along  the  Platte  River, 
remaining  until  driven  South  by  the  freezing  up  of  the 
waters. 

By  this  time  the  fowl  had  become  so  scarce  in  many 
parts  of  the  Middle  West  that  gunners  almost  gave  up 
looking  for  them,  and  turned  their  thoughts  to  more 
distant  regions,  the  newly-settled  wheat  lands  of  North 
Dakota,  for  example;  where,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
wisdom  of  that  State  in  limiting  the  number  of  birds 
to  be  killed  by  one  man  in  a  day,  the  story  of  the  Platte 
River  might  have  been  told  over  again. 

This  is  one  example  of  the  effect  on  fowl  shooting 
of  the  settling  up  of  the  country,  and  the  bringing  dis- 
tant localities  within  the  reach  of  the  gunner.  Another 
and  still  more  potent  cause  of  decrease,  is  the  advance 
of  the  settlements,  which  makes  it  impossible  for  the 
birds  to  build  their  nests  and  hatch  their  young  where 
they  did  formerly. 

The  story  of  many  Atlantic  coast  shooting  grounds 
that  were  formerly  famous  is  similar  to  that  of  the 
Platte  River.  Yet,  on  these  shooting  grounds,  the  de- 
struction has  not  been  so  complete,  since  the  far  greater 
extent  of  water  makes  it  impossible  for  gunners  to  oc- 
cupy the  feeding  grounds  of  the  birds,  as  they  did 


SPRING    SHOOTING.  589 

along  the  Platte.  Nevertheless,  the  use  of  batteries,  or 
sink-boats,  on  the  feeding  grounds,  the  employment  of 
big  guns  at  night,  and  night  shooting  generally,  with 
or  without  lights,  have  had  a  tendency  to  break  up  the 
birds  on  Chesapeake  Bay  and  on  the  Susquehanna 
Flats,  and  to  drive  them  to  other  grounds. 


SPRING  SHOOTING. 

sportsmen,  generally,  are  agreed  that  most  of  our 
upland  game  should  be  protected  during  the  early 
months  of  the  year,  when  they  are  preparing  to  mate 
and  to  build  their  nests.  It  is  commonly  averred  by 
the  advocates  of  spring  shooting,  that,  as  the  wildfowl 
and  the  snipe  are  migratory  birds,  which  do  not  nest 
with  us,  there  is  no  reason  why  they  should  not  be  shot 
in  the  spring,  during  their  passage  from  South  to 
North.    Such  reasoning  is  based  on  false  premises. 

The  assumption  that  the  migratory  wildfowl  do  not 
breed  with  us  is  false.  They  do  not  now  breed  com- 
monly, because  they  are  not  allowed  to  do  so,  and  those 
which  might  remain  with  us  and  rear  their  young  with- 
in our  borders,  are  destroyed  before  they  have  an  op- 
portunity to  prepare  their  nests  and  lay  their  eggs.  In 
years  gone  by,  however,  the  English  snipe,  and  many 
species  of  our  waterfowl,  commonly  bred  in  all  the 
northern  tier  of  States,  and  did  so  in  great  numbers. 
Even  to-day,  in  States  where  spring  shooting  is  for- 
bidden, they  breed  to  a  limited  extent,  and  would  do  so 


590  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

generally  if  they  were  free  from  disturbance  by  man. 
Certain  species  do  so  to-day  in  New  England  and  New 
York,  and  require  only  protection  in  spring  to  do  so 
on  a  much  larger  scale. 

As  it  is,  they  are  shot  over  almost  the  whole 
United  States,  and  part  of  Canada,  at  a  time  when  they 
are  preparing  to  nest,  when  they  are  not  fit  for  food, 
and  when  their  destruction  has  a  more  immediate  bear- 
ing than  at  any  other  time  on  the  supply  of  fowl  for  the 
coming  winter. 

Spring  shooting  ought  to  be  forbidden  by  public 
sentiment  and  law  alike,  on  the  ground  that  it  is  too 
destructive  to  our  waterfowl.  It  ought  to  be  forbidden 
for  the  same  reason  that  catching  trout  out  of  brooks 
and  rivers  with  seines  is  forbidden — because  it  destroys 
so  many  of  the  fowl  that  the  general  supply  suffers  too 
great  depletion. 

One  of  the  chief  arguments  used  by  those  who  ad- 
vocate spring  shooting,  and  especially  by  persons  living 
in  the  Mississippi  Valley,  is,  that  if  the  spring  shooting 
is  abolished  they  will  get  no  duck  shooting  through  the 
year.  These  persons  claim  that  in  their  locality  there  is 
no  fall  duck  shooting ;  that  the  flyway  of  the  birds  on 
their  southern  migration  does  not  touch  them.  In 
spring,  however,  they  say  that  the  birds  come  to  them 
in  good  numbers,  but  that  the  flight  is  short,  although 
while  it  lasts  the  shooting  is  excellent.  Such  an  argu- 
ment is  purely  selfish,  and  might,  with  equal  force,  be 
advanced  in  favor  of  netting  trout,  night  shooting,  or 
any  other  improvident  practice. 


SPRING    SHOOTING.  59 1 

If  the  claims  of  such  men  are  founded  on  fact,  their 
case  is  certainly  a  hard  one,  but,  manifestly,  laws  limit- 
ing the  shooting  of  fowl  should  not  be  applied  to  any 
one  section,  but  should  be  general. 

Within  the  recollection  of  men  who  are  not  yet  old, 
more  than  one  species  of  bird  and  mammal  have  become 
extinct  in  America,  while  over  large  sections  of  the 
country  many  species  have  been  practically  extermi- 
nated. If  gunners  generally  could  be  induced  to  take 
a  broad  view  of  these  matters,  and  to  consider  the  gen- 
eral good,  rather  than  their  own  selfish  advantage,  the 
cause  of  game  protection  w^ould  be  greatly  helped,  and 
the  gunners  themselves,  after  a  few  years,  would  be 
greatly  benefited.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  before  long 
most  of  the  States  will  have  followed  the  worthy  ex- 
ample set  them  by  a  small  number  of  those  in  the 
Northwest,  and  will  enact  laws  leading  to  the  better 
protection  of  our  fowl. 

Years  ago,  the  suggestion  that  spring  shooting 
should  be  abolished  was  commonly  laughed  at,  but 
slowly  a  belief  in  the  necessity  of  limiting  the  shooting 
has  grown,  until  now  there  are  a  few  States  which  pro- 
hibit spring  shooting  altogether,  and  a  few  others 
which  prohibit  it  in  a  more  or  less  half-hearted  way. 
In  Vermont  the  season  for  shooting  wild  ducks  ends 
January  ist,  and  in  New  Hampshire,  February  ist.  Of 
course,  long  before  these  dates,  all  the  ducks  and  geese 
have  gone  South,  not  to  return  until  the  ice  breaks  up 
in  the  spring.  In  Minnesota,  the  season  for. wildfowl 
closes  January  ist,  and  in  Idaho,  March  ist,  in  both 


592  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

cases,  of  course,  before  the  birds  have  begun  to  return 
from  the  South.  It  is  seen  that,  therefore,  in  two  of 
our  newest  States,  the  game  protective  idea  is  far  more 
advanced  than  in  most  of  the  older  States. 

In  Michigan  the  open  season  closes  for  the  most  of 
the  State,  May  ist,  but  for  the  Upper  Peninsula,  Janu- 
ary 15th.  In  Wisconsin  the  wildfowl  season  closes 
January  ist,  except  as  to  geese,  for  which  it  is  open  to 
May  1st;  and  the  same  dates  apply  in  North  Dakota. 
Newfoundland  and  Ontario  have  the  duck  season  close 
in  the  middle  of  winter,  December  15th  and  January 
1 2th,  but  the  season  is  open  for  geese  until  May  ist. 

Most  of  the  other  States  have  the  shooting  season 
for  wildfowl  close  during  April  or  May,  although  in 
California,  North  Carolina,  British  Columbia,  and 
Nova  Scotia  the  close  time  begins  in  March. 

The  experiment  of  having  certain  days  during  each 
week  when  shooting  is  not  permitted  has  been  tried  in 
some  Southern  States,  with  great  advantage  to  the 
gunning  and  to  the  birds;  and  even  the  market-gun- 
ners, who  at  first  were  bitterly  opposed  to  any  such  law, 
now  acknowledge  that  it  has  worked  for  their  benefit, 
and  that  on  the  shooting  days  they  get  better  gunning 
than  they  used  to  when  each  day  of  the  week  w^as  open 
to  them.  It  is  especially  noticeable  that  the  gunning 
on  Monday — after  the  birds  have  had  two  days  of  rest 
— is  usually  better  than  on  any  other  day  of  the  week. 


CONTRACTION    OF    FEEDING    GROUNDS.      593 


CONTRACTION    OF    FEEDING    GROUNDS. 

Certain  natural  conditions  have,  at  various  times 
within  the  past  few  years,  tended  to  injure  the  shooting 
of  the  Chesapeake  Bay  region.  On  a  number  of  occa- 
sions great  floods  have  swept  down  alluvium  and  drift 
stuff  from  the  rivers,  covering  large  portions  of  the 
feeding  grounds,  and  thus  destroyed  the  food.  At  other 
times,  unusual  cold  has  frozen  the  waters  over  the  shal- 
lower flats,  quite  to  the  bottom,  killing  or  tearing  up 
by  the  roots  the  grass  on  which  the  fowl  feed.  Of 
course,  such  wholesale  destruction  of  the  food  prevents 
the  fowl  from  visiting  the  grounds  until  the  grass  has 
re-established  itself  once  more,  and  this  is  a  very  slow 
process. 

It  is  reported,  also,  and  probably  with  truth,  that 
many  of  the  flats  which  formerly  were  excellent  feed- 
ing grounds  for  the  canvas-back  and  other  fowl,  are 
constantly  filling  up,  and  becoming  too  shoal  for  cer- 
tain kinds  of  duck  food  to  grow.  This,  if  true,  must  in 
time  very  greatly  reduce  the  area  of  the  feeding 
grounds,  and  the  result  of  this  will  be  not  to  concen- 
trate the  birds  on  the  diminished  area,  but  to  drive  them 
to  other  localities. 

In  the  Chesapeake  Bay,  as  also  in  certain  bays  on 
Long  Island,  there  has  been  in  the  past  great  complaint 
that  ducks  were  caught  in  nets  set  over  their  feeding 
grounds.     The  nets  are  placed  close  to  the  bottom, 


594  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

ostensibly  to  catch  fish,,  and  the  ducks,  diving,  become 
entangled  in  their  meshes,  and  drown.  Laws  exist  in 
certain  States  forbidding  the  setting  of  nets  for  the 
purpose  of  catching  ducks,  but  as  no  method  has  as  yet 
been  discovered  for  exposing  what  goes  on  in  a  man's 
brain,  it  has  never  been  possible  to  prove  that  any  indi- 
vidual set  his  nets  for  the  purpose  of  catching  ducks, 
and  no  convictions  under  this  law  have  ever  been  had. 
Of  late  years  there  has  been  little  or  no  complaint  of 
this  practice. 


SIZE  OF  BAGS. 

The  man  who  shoots  merely  as  a  matter  of  recrea- 
tion usually  has  great — and  sometimes  just — com- 
plaint to  make  of  the  market-shooter.  Many  men  de- 
clare that  if  there  were  no  shooting  for  the  market, 
game  would  be  as  plenty  as  ever.  The  average  gunner 
looks  with  disfavor  on  the  man  who  turns  the  fruits  of 
his  shooting  into  money,  and  attributes  the  diminished 
number  of  our  fowl  very  largely  to  the  slaughter  which 
he  causes. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  hard  to  see  where  the  mar- 
ket-shooter is  any  more  to  blame  for  the  destruction 
of  birds  than  is  he  who  shoots  merely  for  recreation. 
The  market-shooter,  to  be  sure,  is  a  professional,  in 
the  sense  that  he  turns  his  skill  in  a  branch  of  sport 
into  money.  But  in  this  there  is  nothing  necessarily 
disgraceful,  and  we  have  known  more  than  one  mar- 


SIZE     OF    BAGS.  595 

ket-shooter  who,  to  our  mind,  was  a  far  truer  sports- 
man than  many  of  that  class  who  contemn  him.  The 
harm  wrought  by  the  market  gunner  is  due  to  the  fact 
that  he  works  at  gunning  day  after  day  through  the 
shooting  season,  and  so,  individuaUy,  kills  a  vast  num- 
ber of  birds.  The  ravages  of  the  market  hunter  will 
cease  when  laws  shall  be  put  in  force  properly  regu- 
lating the  sale  of  game. 

Within  the  past  few  years  the  question  of  the  size  of 
catch  of  fish  or  bags  of  game  has  been  taken  hold  of 
by  the  legislature  of  various  States,  and  laws  have  been 
passed  limiting  the  quantity  of  fish,  birds  or  mammals 
that  one  person  can  kill  in  one  day.  Some  States  have 
gone  further  than  this,  and  have  placed  a  limit  not  only 
on  what  shall  be  taken  in  a  day,  but  also  in  a  season. 
Such  legislation  has  the  support  of  public  opinion,  and 
so,  enforced  by  the  game  wardens,  it  cannot  fail  to 
do  great  good.  Neither  the  market-shooter  nor  the 
non-professional  gunner  has  sufficient  self-control  to 
stop  shooting  when  he  has  killed  a  fair  bag  of  birds. 
Instead  of  this,  he  will  continue  to  shoot  as  long  as  the 
fowl  fly,  and  in  this  respect  the  two  classes  are  equally 
blameworthy.  Every  man  remembers  the  many  days 
which  were  almost  blanks,  and  those  other  days  on 
which  but  few  birds  were  killed;  it  is  but  human — 
when  the  occasional  good  days  come — that  the  gunner 
should  wish  to  make  the  most  of  his  opportunities,  and 
should  try  to  average  up  the  bad  days.  Bags  of  sixty, 
eighty,  and  sometimes  even  a  hundred  birds  are  not 
uncommon.    Yet,  under  the  conditions  which  exist  in 


59^  DUCK    SHOOTING, 

America  to-day,  no  man  ought  to  wish  to  kill  birds  in 
such  a  wholesale  way. 

In  the  years  between  1870  and  1875  it  was  not  un- 
common for  fifteen  thousand  ducks  to  be  killed  in  a  sin- 
gle day  on  the  Chesapeake  Bay.  At  the  present  day 
one-nfth  of  this  number  would  be  a  very  large  score. 

It  is  greatly  to  be  desired  that  all  States  may  enact 
laws  something  like  those  of  North  Dakota,  where  the 
number  of  birds  that  may  be  killed  in  a  day  is  limited 
to  twenty-five.  If  such  a  law  could  be  put  into  opera- 
tion, and  the  shooting  season  could  be  shortened,  so 
that  it  would  last  for  three  or  four  months,  instead  of 
eight,  the  effect  on  our  wildfowl  would  soon  be  seen. 


NATURAL  ENEMIES. 

In  the  old  times,  when  wildfowl  were  so  enormously 
abundant  over  most  of  the  country,  it  seemed  as  if  their 
numbers  could  never  be  greatly  reduced.  At  that 
period,  those  interested  in  the  subject  imagined  that 
the  only  important  dangers  to  which  the  birds  were 
exposed  were  such  wholesale  methods  of  destruction 
as  over-shooting  and  netting.  Now,  however,  since 
the  birds  have  grown  fewer,  since  hundreds  use  the 
shotgun  where  ten  did  formerly,  when  the  western 
and  a  part  of  the  northern  breeding  grounds  have 
been  turned  into  farms  and  summer  resorts,  and  when, 
notwithstanding  all  this,  the  shooting  continues  over 


NATURAL    ENEMIES.  S97 

eight  months  of  the  year,  it  is  necessary  to  consider 
certain  minor  causes  of  destruction  which  formerly 
were  not  worth  thinking  of. 

The  fable  that  wildfowl  eggs  were  gathered  for  com- 
mercial purposes  undoubtedly  had  its  origin  in  the  fact 
that  Indians  collect  the  eggs  for  food.  From  time  im- 
memorial the  Indians  and  Eskimos  who  dwell  in  the 
country  where  the  ducks  breed  have  collected  for  food 
quantities  of  their  eggs,  and  during  the  moulting  sea- 
son great  numbers  of  young  and  of  adult  birds.  They 
do  so  still ;  but,  as  the  population  of  the  North  is  very 
sparse,  they  cannot  destroy  any  considerable  numbers. 
Beside  this,  it  may  be  said  that  in  many  places  the  In- 
dians and  the  Eskimos  are  disappearing  more  rapidly 
than  the  ducks.  These  savage  peoples  are  to  be  counted 
as  the  natural  enemies  to  the  wildfowl,  and  the  destruc- 
tion which  they  cause  is,  perhaps,  no  greater  than  that 
caused  by  other  natural  enemies — the  wild  animals  and 
the  rapacious  birds  which  feed  on  the  fowl  or  their  eggs 
when  they  can.  In  comparison  with  the  other  causes 
already  enumerated,  the  destruction  caused  by  the  na- 
tives is  absolutely  inconsiderable.  The  true  reason  for 
the  decrease  of  the  birds  is  the  spread  of  civilization 
over  the  continent,  which  means  their  destruction  by 
civilized  man ;  and  every  attempt  to  cover  up  this  truth 
and  to  lay  blame  elsewhere  is  a  real  injury  to  the  cause 
of  game  protection. 


598  DUCK    SHOOTING. 


LEAD  POISONING. 


Another  quite  unexpected  clanger  to  wildfowl,  which 
was  discovered  only  in  1894,  having  been  then  an- 
nounced in  Forest  and  Stream,  is  the  self-poisoning  of 
ducks,  by  means  of  lead  taken  into  the  stomach  in  the 
form  of  shot. 

In  Texas,  at  Galveston,  at  Stephenson  Lake,  and  on 
Lake  Surprise,  twenty-five  miles  northeast  of  Galves- 
ton, as  well  as  at  points  in  Currituck  Sound,  on  the 
North  Carolina  coast,  there  are  frequently  found  ducks, 
geese  and  swans,  dead,  or  sick  and  unable  to  fly.  On 
examination  they  prove  to  be  unmarked  by  shot,  and 
often  appear  externally  in  good  condition.  An  in- 
vestigation, however,  shows  that  the  gizzard  contains, 
with  the  sand  and  gravel  always  to  be  found  there, 
particles  of  lead — shot  or  its  remains — picked  up 
by  the  bird  in  feeding.  The  condition  of  some  of  these 
particles  shows  that  they  have  recently  been  taken  into 
the  gizzard,  for  they  have  lost  nothing  in  size  or  sur- 
face. Others  have  evidently  been  subjected  for  some 
time  to  the  grinding  process,  and  have  lost  much  of 
their  weight.  It  is  said  that  in  Texas  sometimes  such 
gizzards  contain,  beside  particles  of  lead,  old  percus- 
sion caps. 

The  matter  was  first  brought  to  my  personal  atten- 
tion during  the  winter  of  1893-4,  and  shortly  after  I 
wrote  about  it,  substantially  as  follows : 


LEAD  POISONING.  599 

During  a  recent  visit  to  Currituck  Sound,  I  heard 
much  of  a  disease  to  which  wildfowl  there  are  subject, 
and  which  is  locally  known  as  ''croup."  This  sickness 
seems  to  be  common  to  ducks,  geese  and  swans,  and  I 
saw  a  number  of  the  affected  birds.  The  local  gun- 
ners believe  it  to  be  a  disease  of  the  respiratory  organs ; 
and,  on  capturing  a  sick  bird,  rub  its  throat,  under  the 
impression  that  something  is  choking  the  fowl.  Of 
course,  the  sick  ones  are  not  under  observation  during 
the  early  stages  of  the  disease,  but  only  after  they  be- 
come so  weak  as  to  be  easily  captured;  the  symptoms 
are  a  rattling  in  the  throat,  as  if  there  were  difficulty  in 
breathing,  and  an  occasional  dribbling  of  a  few  drops 
of  yellowish  fluid  from  the  bill,  which  is  held  open 
much  of  the  time.  In  the  geese,  the  voice  is  changed, 
being  less  resonant  than  in  health.  A  ''croupy"  goose, 
captured  near  the  point  of  Narrows  Island,  January 
14th,  seemed  in  good  condition,  sleek  and  quite  strong. 
It  swam  vigorously,  but  did  not  attempt  to  fly,  and 
when  caught,  struggled  w^th  a  good  deal  of  force.  As  it 
was  being  put  in  the  boat,  its  head  and  neck  hanging 
down,  it  disgorged  two  or  three  tablespoonfuls  of  a 
yellowish  fluid,  and  died.  A  swan  caught  on  Brant 
Island,  a  day  or  two  earlier,  was  brought  in  alive  and 
put  in  the  goose  pen,  where  it  lived  for  a  short  time,  but 
was  found  dead  one  morning.  At  times  this  bird  seemed 
to  feel  pretty  well,  dabbling  in  the  water  and  dressing 
its  plumage,  but  much  of  the  time  it  stood  or  sat  with 
its  bill  open,  breathing  hard,  and  with  the  yellowish 
fluid  dropping  from  its  beak. 


6oo  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

A  dissection  of  the  two  birds  mentioned  revealed 
the  disease  from  which  the  fowl  suffers  and  its  cause. 

All  the  organs  were  found  in  a  healthy  condition 
until  the  gizzard  was  reached.  In  the  case  of  the  goose, 
the  crop  and  upper  gizzard  were  filled  with  fresh 
grass,  on  which  the  processes  of  digestion  had  not  be- 
gun. The  posterior  part  of  the  gizzard  contained  per- 
haps two  ounces  of  fine  sand,  mingled  with  coarser 
gravel.  Distributed  through  this  sand  was  a  small 
quantity — perhaps  one-quarter  of  an  ounce — of  par- 
ticles of  lead,  evidently  shot.  Some  of  these  particles 
were  large  and  round,  others  were  flattened,  others 
still  were  no  larger  than  No.  lo  or  No.  12  shot,  and 
wxre  not  round,  but  oval  or  bean-shaped.  The  sur- 
faces of  all  were  dull,  and,  on  close  examination,  were 
seen  to  be  finely  pitted  by  attrition  against  the  harder 
sand  and  gravel  which  grinds  up  the  bird's  food.  The 
gristly  lining  of  the  gizzard  of  this  goose  was  greenish 
in  color,  and  in  character  entirely  different  from  the 
same  membrane  in  a  healthy  bird.  Its  inner  membrane 
was  soft  and  decayed,  or  corroded,  easily  to  be  pulled 
to  pieces  or  rubbed  off  with  the  finger,  and  in  some 
places  had  degenerated  into  a  soft,  jelly-like  mass  of 
yellowish  color.  The  thicker  tough  lining  of  the  giz- 
zard was  also  corroded  and  could  be  picked  away  in 
small  pieces,  while  in  a  healthy  bird  it  would  have 
stripped  away  in  a  single  piece  from  the  white  mem- 
brane upon  which  it  lies.  This  white  membrane 
showed  here  and  there  pinkish  or  purplish  spots,  indi- 
cating inflammation.     The  right  lobe  of  the  liver  was 


LEAD    POISONING.  6oi 

discolored,  having  a  dark,  unhealthy  look.  The  small 
intestine  showed  evidence  of  intense  inflammation 
through  its  length,  and  the  rectum  was  also  inflamed. 

The  swan  was  examined  a  few  days  later  than  the 
goose,  and  several  days  after  its  death.  Its  gizzard 
contained  perhaps  twenty  or  thirty  grains  of  corn, 
which  were  softened,  but  not  at  all  digested,  or  even 
abraded.  The  gizzard  contained  no  sand,  but  it  did 
contain  a  quantity  of  yellowish,  jelly-like  matter,  which 
appeared  to  be  the  broken  down  walls  of  the  gizzard 
lining.  At  the  posterior  part  of  the  gizzard  were  a 
dozen  particles  of  lead,  two  of  them  evidently  No.  4 
shot,  and  the  others  small  ground-up  fragments  of  shot 
which  had  lost  shape  and  size.  The  tough  lining  mem- 
brane of  the  gizzard  was  black  in  color,  had  lost  all 
character,  and  could  be  picked  off  piece  by  piece  like 
rotten  wood  or  burned  leather.  The  subjacent  white 
membrane  showed  the  pink  and  purple  spots  of  inflam- 
mation noted  in  the  same  membrane  of  the  goose.  The 
small  intestine  was  highly  inflamed  throughout  its 
whole  tract.  The  liver  was  absolutely  black  and  very 
soft. 

From  these  examinations  I  conclude  that  the  birds 
dissected  died  from  chronic  lead  poisoning,  the  cause  of 
which  was  sufficiently  obvious. 

Each  season  great  quantities  of  shot  are  fired  on 
the  waters  of  this  sound,  and  much  of  it  falls  on  the 
feeding  grounds  of  the  wildfowl.  In  feeding,  the  geese, 
ducks  and  swans — whether  by  accident  or  design — take 
into  the  stomach  with  sand  and  gravel  and  food,  more 


6o2  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

or  less  of  this  shot.  When  the  shot  has  passed  into  the 
gizzard  it  is  subjected  to  the  same  grinding  process  as 
the  grass,  grain  or  other  food,  and,  being  softer  than 
the  sand,  it  is  ground  into  minute  particles.  These  fine 
particles,  acted  on  by  the  acids  of  the  digestive  organs, 
yield  a  soluble  lead  salt,  which,  being  absorbed  into  the 
general  system,  causes  death.* 

In  a  subsequent  note  to  Forest  and  Stream,  signed  by 
A  Member  of  the  Narrows  Island  Club,  additional 
facts  bearing  on  the  subject  were  printed,  as  follows : 

"At  Narrows  Island  the  goose  pen  stands  on  the  bor- 
der of  a  channel  known  as  the  Little  Narrows,  which, 
in  times  of  severe  cold  weather,  is  always  open,  and 
during  a  freeze-up  is  a  great  flyway  for  ducks.  Gun- 
ners shooting  about  this  channel  at  such  times  have  for 
many  years  scattered  shot  over  the  marsh,  the  water 
and  the  mud. 

''Until  a  year  or  two  since,  the  goose  pen  stood  partly 
on  the  marsh  and  partly  over  the  muddy  shore,  and  en- 
closed no  high  land.  The  live  decoy  geese  and  ducks, 
being  unable  to  supply  themselves  with  sand  or  gravel, 
were  industrious  in  searching  through  the  mud  for  the 
hard  particles  necessary  to  the  proper  digestion  of  their 
food,  and  until  recently  we  were  constantly  troubled 
by  having  our  decoy  geese  and  ducks  sick  with  the 
'croup.'  However,  after  the  death  of  Capt.  Ryder,  our 
former  superintendent,  we  moved  and  enlarged  the 
goose  pen,  so  that  it  now  takes  in  a  piece  of  high 
ground,  where  there  is  some  sand,  with  plenty  of  bro- 

*The  London  Field  (1902)  gives  instances  of  similar  lead  pois- 
oning, in  England,  of  pheasants  and  partridges. 


SELF-DENIAL    NEEDED.  603 

ken  oyster  shells.  We  also  give  the  geese  the  best  corn 
we  can  buy,  and  every  once  in  a  while  feed  them  with 
grass.  As  the  birds  can  now  readily  obtain  sand  and 
fragments  of  oyster  shells,  they  supply  their  wants  with 
these  substances,  and  are  thus  much  less  likely  to  take 
in  any  considerable  quantity  of  the  shot  which  may 
still  remain  within  the  limits  of  the  pen.  It  is,  of  course, 
evident  that  to  keep  these  captive  birds  in  a  state  of 
health  they  should  be  surrounded  as  nearly  as  possible 
by  natural  conditions." 

It  would  appear  that  the  ducks,  in  their  feeding 
through  the  borders  of  the  marsh  and  in  the  mud  in 
which  they  dabble,  often  come  upon  the  particles  of 
shot  so  thickly  scattered  over  the  shooting  ground 
and  take  them  into  the  alimentary  canal,  whence 
they  pass  down  into  the  gizzard.  Until  they  reach  the 
mill  in  which  the  wildfowl  grinds  his  food,  these  pel- 
lets do  the  bird  no  harm,  but  when  reduced  to  powder 
and  acted  on  by  acids  they  become  a  violent  poison. 


SELF-DENIAL  NEEDED. 

It  must  be  obvious  to  any  one  who  will  take  an  un- 
prejudiced view  of  the  subject  that  the  settling  up  of  a 
large  portion  of  the  North  American  continent  has  de- 
prived our  wildfowl  of  much  of  their  ancient  breeding 
ground.  It  must  also  be  evident  that  the  great  and 
constantly    increasing   number   of   gunners    scattered 


604  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

over  the  country  where  the  wildfowl  spend  nearly  two- 
thirds  of  the  year,  and  shooting  during  all  this  time, 
must  destroy  more  of  these  fowl  than,  under  the  most 
favorable  circumstances,  can  be  bred  in  the  far  North, 
where  they  are  comparatively  little  disturbed  during 
their  sojourn  there  during  the  breeding  season. 

We  must  look  at  fowl-shooting  just  as  we  do  at 
every  other  form  of  field  sport.  As  game  and  fish  be- 
come more  scarce,  limitations  must  be  placed  on  their 
capture,  and  those  methods  of  destruction  which  are 
most  sweeping  in  their  results  must  be  forbidden  by  law 
or  by  public  sentiment.  Game  laws  are  enacted  for 
the  general  good — for  the  good  of  people  to-day,  and  in 
the  future — and  they  ought  to  be  framed  to  subserve  the 
greatest  good  to  the  greatest  number,  and  to  preserve 
for  the  use  of  all  our  people  as  great  a  number  as  pos- 
sible of  our  beautiful  wild  creatures.  Although  the 
seining  of  trout  affords  a  most  successful  means  of 
taking  fish,  it  is  made  illegal  by  statute,  because  it  de- 
stroys on  such  a  wholesale  scale  that  a  few  men  might 
soon  capture  all  the  fish  in  a  stream,  and  there  would 
be  none  left  for  others. 

Thus,  if  we  are  to  continue  to  have  any  duck  shoot- 
ing, limitations  of  one  sort  or  another  must  be  put  on 
this  sport,  just  as  such  limitations  are  put  on  the  shoot- 
ing of  other  birds  and  animals,  and  the  taking  of  fish. 
Gunners  must  consent  to  practice  self-control.  Fewer 
birds  must  be  killed  each  season. 

These  limitations  should  act  in  two  directions,  viz., 
in  shortening  the  time  during  which  fowl  may  be  shot, 


BATTERIES    AND    BUSH    BLINDS.  605 

and  in  doing  away  with  those  methods  of  shooting 
which  are  most  destructive.  The  time  for  shooting 
can  be  shortened  only  by  cutting  off  several  months 
from  the  present  season,  and  it  would  undoubtedly  be 
for  the  advantage  of  all  gunners  if  all  the  States  were 
to  pass  laws  forbidding  the  shooting  of  ducks  from 
February  ist  to  September  ist.  Such  a  change  would 
give  five  months  of  gunning  to  people  living  in  the 
South,  but  only  three  months  to  those  who  live  in  the 
North,  an  apparent  hardship,  but  one  that  must  be 
borne. 


BATTERIES  AND  BUSH  BLINDS. 

In  order  to  lessen  the  destruction  of  fowl,  those 
methods  of  gunning  which  are  most  destructive  should 
be  done  away  with.  One  of  these  destructive  modes 
of  gunning  is  battery  shooting.  This  should  be  given 
up,  not  in  order  to  benefit  or  to  injure  any  man,  or  any 
class  of  men,  but  solely  in  order  that  fewer  birds  may 
be  killed.  Up  to  a  certain  point,  wildfowl  are  able  to 
protect  themselves  from  shore  shooters.  They  can,  if 
they  please,  sit  out  in  the  broad  waters,  and  away  from 
the  shore,  but  they  cannot  protect  themselves  from  bat- 
teries placed  on  their  feeding  grounds,  nor  from  sail 
boats  which  follow  them  from  place  to  place.  The  birds 
must  eat,  and  when  they  wish  to  do  so  they  are  sure  to 
go  to  their  feeding  grounds,  and  to  the  decoys  anchored 
there,  and  so  expose  themselves  to  the  gunner.     In 


6o6  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

many  localities  where  batteries  are  used  it  is  a  common 
practice  for  the  tender,  after  the  morning  flight  is  over, 
to  visit  in  his  sail  boat  all  the  rafts  of  fowl  in  the  vicin- 
ity, and  "stir  them  up,"  in  the  hope  that  some  of  them 
may  go  to  the  decoys  near  the  box. 

Battery  shooting  is  still  practiced  in  our  southern 
coast  waters.  The  batteries  are  located  on  the  feeding 
grounds,  and  are  rigged  out  with  large  stands  of  de- 
coys. There  is  nothing  whatever  to  arouse  the  suspi- 
cion of  the  oncoming  ducks,  which  go  directly  to  the 
decoys,  and  then  are  shot  at,  apparently  from  the  sur- 
face of  the  water.  It  is  true  that  after  a  time  birds 
learn  to  know  the  batteries,  and  after  they  have  been 
shot  at  a  few  times  they  often  scatter,  leaving  the 
ground  where  the  batteries  are  anchored,  and  disperse 
in  small  bunches  to  other  localities  where  batteries  are 
not  anchored. 

The  bush  blinds,  so  often  referred  to,  are  commonly 
used  by  gunners  on  the  Chesapeake  Bay  and  its  tribu- 
tary waters,  as  well  as  on  shoal  waters  further  to  the 
southward.  They  are  described  in  another  place.  Usu- 
ally they  are  set  up  on  shoals,  in  the  broad  water,  and  on 
feeding  grounds  near  the  shore,  in  the  line  of  the  ducks' 
flight,  and,  being  built  before  the  birds  come  on  in  the 
autumn,  do  not  for  some  time  become  objects  of  sus- 
picion to  the  fowl.  When  surrounded  by  a  good  stand 
of  decoys,  they  are  very  deadly,  and  if  set  up,  as  they 
often  are,  during  a  freeze,  in  air  holes,  wonderfully 
good  shooting  may  be  had  from  them. 

They  are  very  destructive  to  fowl,  and  the  different 


NIGHT    SHOOTING.  607 

States  should  forbid  their  use,  for  the  reason  that  they 
interfere  with  the  feeding  of  the  fowl,  and  tend  to 
render  them  suspicious  even  of  the  waters  over  which 
they  fly. 


NIGHT  SHOOTING. 

Fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago  night  shooting,  often 
with  "big  guns,"  was  commonly  practiced  on  many  of 
the  best  ducking  grounds  in  the  Chesapeake  Bay.  The 
gunner,  usually  with  a  reflecting  headlight  in  the  bow 
of  the  skiff,  paddled  quietly  up  to  the  great  rafts  of 
fowl  resting  on  the  water,  and  shot  into  them  with  huge 
guns,  ten  or  twelve  feet  long,  and  carrying  a  pound  or 
more  of  shot.  The  use  of  such  guns  was  forbidden  by 
law,  but  it  was  exceedingly  diflicult  to  procure  evidence 
against  the  men  who  used  them.  The  public  sentiment 
of  the  community  was  on  the  side  of  the  law-breakers, 
and  people  generally  were  willing  to  give  them  warn- 
ing of  the  approach  of  law  officers.  In  1883,  some  of 
the  ducking  clubs  on  the  Chesapeake  Bay  made  special 
efforts  to  put  an  end  to  this  shooting,  and  several  of 
the  big  guns  were  captured  and  their  owners  were 
arrested.  The  local  gunning  population  discovered 
at  last  that  the  members  of  the  clubs  were  in  earnest, 
and  a  treaty  was  entered  into  by  which  the  law-break- 
ers agreed,  if  they  were  not  prosecuted,  to  give  up  their 
big  guns  and  the  practice  of  night  shooting.     Since 


6o8  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

then  there  has  been  comparatively  little  law-breaking 
in  this  particular  respect. 


WHAT  SHALL  BE  DONE? 

Over,  at  least,  one-fourth,  and  probably  a  greater 
area  of  the  country,  the  inhabitants  now  have  duck 
shooting  in  neither  spring  nor  fall.  If  they  desire  to 
have  a  day  or  two  in  the  blind  or  in  the  battery,  it  is 
necessary  for  them  to  travel  some  hundreds  of  miles, 
and  to  spend  considerable  sums  of  money,  on  the 
chance  that  they  may  get  gunning.  This  state  of  things 
will  continue,  and  as  population  increases,  and  as  the 
fowl  become  fewer,  the  number  of  men  who  must  go 
without  shooting  will  increase.  It  is  one  of  the  condi- 
tions under  which  we  live,  and  there  is  no  escaping  it. 

It  is  difficult  to  suggest  how  a  general  and  effective 
change  in  the  shooting  laws  of  all  the  States  and  Prov- 
inces of  the  continent  can  be  brought  about.  A  few 
States,  from  time  to  time,  have  passed  laws  prohibiting 
spring  shooting,  but  these  laws  have  not  always  re- 
ceived the  support  of  public  sentiment,  and  have  in  some 
cases  been  repealed.  To  accomplish  much  good,  such 
laws  should  exist  in  all  the  States. 

The  time  is  coming,  however,  and  it  cannot  be  long 
delayed,  when  gunners  will  be  obliged  to  make  a  choice 
between  having  no  shooting  at  all,  or  giving  up  some 
portion  of  the  season  that  is  now  open.    The  operation 


WHAT     SHALL     BE     DONE?  609 

of  the  game  preserve  system,  which  within  a  few  years 
has  become  so  extensive,  is  doing  something  to  protect 
the  birds,  yet,  in  the  nature  of  things,  it  cannot  affect 
them  much.  Each  year  the  ducks  become  less  and  less. 
Occasionally  there  are  periods  when,  as  in  the  autum.n 
of  1899,  some  special  cause — as  a  great  drought  pre- 
vailing over  much  of  the  country — concentrates  the 
ducks  where  water  can  be  had,  and  makes  for  those 
regions  an  apparent  abundance;  but  it  is  quite  certain 
that  the  greater  numbers  found  there  mean  an  abso- 
lute dearth  somewhere  else.  Something  radical  must 
be  done.  Fewer  fowl  must  be  killed  in  order  that  more 
breeders  may  be  left,  and  the  stock  of  birds  thus  in- 
creased. 

If  for  five  years  gunning  were  stopped  all  over  the 
country  February  ist,  the  shooting  at  the  end  of  that 
time  would  be  so  much  better  than  it  has  been  at  any 
time  for  the  last  fifteen  years  that  gunners  throughout 
the  land  would  be  practically  unanimous  to  have  such 
a  law  made  permanent  for  all  time. 

The  action,  first  advocated  years  ago  by  Forest  and 
Stream,  and  since  then  made  law  in  a  number  of 
States,  that  the  sale  of  game  should  be  forbidden,  is  a 
long  step  in  the  right  direction.  This  would  put  an  end 
to  shooting  for  the  market,  and  would  thus  cut  off  one 
serious  cause  of  the  destruction  of  fowl.  If  such  a  law 
should  meet  with  general  favor,  if  the  shooting  after 
the  1st  of  January  or  ist  of  February  should  be  for- 
bidden, if  the  bags  should  be  limited  to  twenty-five  or 
thirty  birds  a  day,  new  conditions  would  soon  greet  the 


6io 


DUCK    SHOOTING. 


gunner,  and  birds  might  once  again  be  seen  on  their 
old  feeding  grounds,  in  something  hke  their  old-time 
plenty. 

I  repeat,  then,  that  to  bring  back  the  ducks  in  their 
old-time  abundance  the  gunners  must  agree  to 

Stop  springf  shooting:; 

Limit  the  size  of  bag:s  for  a  day  and  a  season; 

Stop  the  sale  of  §fame« 


FURTHER  NOTE  ON  THE  CHESAPEAKE 
BAY  DOG. 

By  a  mischance,  which  I  greatly  regret,  certain  in- 
teresting examples  of  intelligence  in  this  breed  of  dog 
were  omitted  from  this  chapter  in  the  first  edition.  The 
first  of  these  deals  with  a  dog  owned  by  Mr.  J.  G. 
Morris,  of  Easton,  Md. 

Mr.  Morris  was  shooting  from  a  floating  blind  not 
far  from  the  land,  and  his  dog  on  the  shore  was  gather- 
ing the  birds  as  they  fell,  taking  them  there  and  put- 
ting them  in  a  pile.  Mr.  Morris'  blind  was  just  off  a 
fence,  which  ran  down  into  the  water  between  two 
fields.  The  dog  had  made  his  pile  of  ducks  close  to 
this  fence,  and  near  the  water's  edge.  In  the  same 
field  with  the  dog  and  the  ducks  were  confined  some 
young  cattle,  and  the  path  which  they  used  in  going  to 
the  water  passed  close  to  the  fence  against  which  the 
dog  had  collected  the  ducks,  by  which  he  lay. 

As  the  day  passed,  the  young  cattle,  following  this 
path,  attempted  to  go  down  to  water,  but  when  they 
approached  the  dog,  he  got  up  and  drove  them  away. 
This  was  repeated  several  times,  for  the  cattle  per- 
sisted in  coming  down  to  the  water  by  their  usual  path, 
and  the  dog  would  not  permit  them  to  approach  his  pile 
of  ducks.     At  last  the  situation  became  so  annoying  to 

611 


6l2  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

the  dog  that  he  rose  to  his  feet,  took  a  duck  in  his 
mouth,  jumped  over  the  fence  into  the  adjoining  field, 
and  leaving  the  duck  there,  jumped  back  and  got  an- 
other one,  and  continued  this  until  he  had  transferred 
all  the  ducks  to  the  other  side  of  the  fence,  when  he 
again  lay  down  by  them.  The  next  time  the  cattle 
attempted  to  go  down  the  path  to  water,  the  dog  paid 
no  attention  to  them,  but  permitted  them  to  pass  him 
and  drink. 

To  my  mind,  this  was  a  clear  case  of  the  reasoning 
out  by  the  dog  of  a  special  remedy  for  a  set  of  con- 
ditions that  were  entirely  new  to  him,  and  so  the  facts 
are  well  worth  putting  on  record. 

A  second  example  took  place  on  a  marsh  in  Curri- 
tuck Sound,  where  my  friend,  Mr.  C.  R.  Purdy,  w^as 
shooting.  Harrison,  the  watchman  for  the  marsh,  had 
a  dog  named  Grover,  that  he  had  reared  from  a  puppy, 
and  kept  with  him  on  the  island.  He  was  a  useful 
animal  to  Harrison,  for  he  brought  him  an  income  of 
perhaps  $75  to  $100  a  season  from  the  sale  of  the 
cripples  wdiich  he  recovered.  Harrison  was  accus- 
tomed to  shove  around  the  marsh  morning  and  even- 
ing, letting  the  dog  run  along  the  shore  while  he  pushed 
his  light  skiff  close  to  the  land.  Whenever  the  dog 
crossed  the  trail  of  a  cripple  that  had  gone  into  the 
marsh,  he  would  follow^  it,  bring  the  bird  out  and  de- 
liver it  to  Harrison.  In  this  way  each  week  a  consid- 
erable number  of  birds  w^re  recovered,  which  other- 
wise would  have  gone  to  feed  the  minks  and  the  coons. 

On  the  particular  occasion  referred  to  the  birds  were 


FURTHER  NOTE  ON  CHESAPEAKE  BAY  DOG.    613 

flying  very  well.  Flock  after  flock  of  widgeon  came 
up  to  the  decoys  in  the  narrow  pond,  where  Mr.  Purdy 
was  tied  out,  and  a  number  of  birds  were  being  killed. 
The  flocks  came  so  frequently  that  it  was  impossible 
to  recover  the  wounded  birds,  which  fell  in  the  marsh, 
but  the  gunner,  his  boatman  and  Harrison  watched 
them,  and  counted  five  that  went  down  at  different 
distances  before  the  flight  lulled.  When  the  birds 
stopped  flying,  the  dog,  without  a  word  from  any  one, 
started  off  across  the  pond  and  into  the  marsh,  and 
making  five  trips,  brought  back  to  the  blind  five 
widgeons,  which  he  had  marked  down  and  recovered. 
Then  he  lay  down  by  his  pile  of  ducks. 

To  any  one  familiar  with  the  w^ork  of  these  dogs,  the 
accurate  marking  down  of  the  birds  will  not  appear  re- 
markable. But  that  he  should  have  made  five  trips  and 
brought  five  birds — all  that  there  were — and  then 
should  have  stopped,  does  seem  odd.  Those  who  wit- 
nessed the  performance  believe  that  he  counted  the 
birds,  and  knew  when  he  had  brought  them  all,  but 
perhaps  it  is  not  necessary  to  assume  this. 

What  seems  possible  enough  is  that  the  dog,  having 
marked  down  these  birds,  may  have  carried  in  his  mind 
the  different  directions  in  which  they  went,  and  have 
remembered  them  all.  For  a  man,  this  would  be  a 
difficult  task,  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  dog 
had  all  his  life  been  accustomed  to  doing  just  this 
thing,  and  the  recalling  of  the  several  spots  in  which 
the  birds  fell  may  have  been  natural  enough. 

Again,  it  is  conceivable  that  the  dog  may  have  gone 


6l4  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

into  the  marsh  to  the  leeward  of  the  birds  and  on  his 
first  journey  may  have  passed  so  far  beyond  the  fur- 
thest duck  that  he  was  sure  that  there  were  no  more. 
Then  it  would  be  simple  for  him  to  bring  first  the  duck 
that  was  furthest  away,  then  the  next  furthest,  and  so 
en  to  the  last.  It  is  a  common  practice  for  old  and 
wise  dogs  to  bring  from  the  water  the  most  distant 
birds  first. 

Another  incident  of  like  character  has  recently  been 
related  to  me  by  Mr.  Morris,  whom  I  quote  so  fre- 
quently in  connection  with  this  breed,  and  who,  through 
many  years'  experience  in  gunning  on  Chesapeake  Bay 
waters  and  of  breeding  these  dogs,  is  probably  the  first 
authority  on  them  in  the  world  to-day.     He  said : 

**I  was  shooting  off  a  point  of  marsh  over  decoys, 
the  wind  blowing  hard  off  shore,  and  my  skiff  covered 
with  reeds  and  sedge  made  the  blind.  Under  these 
circumstances  it  was  my  dog's  habit  to  bring  his  ducks 
to  the  boat  and  make  a  pile,  curling  himself  up  along- 
side it. 

"A  flock  of  mallards  came  in,  out  of  which  I  was 
lucky  enough  to  kill  two  drakes — very  large  ones.  My 
dog,  Marengo,  went  first  for  the  one  which  fell  furthest 
off,  and  in  coming  back  met  the  other  drifting  out.  He 
tried  his  best  to  get  both  ducks  in  his  mouth,  but  finding 
that  impossible,  he  held  the  second  duck  under  his  jaw 
in  some  way,  with  the  aid  of  the  first,  which  was  in  his 
mouth.  In  this  manner  he  succeeded  in  bringing  both 
some  distance,  but  the  sea  then  washed  the  second  duck 
from  its  position.     He  went  through  the  same  per- 


FURTHER  NOTE  ON  CHESAPEAKE  BAY  DOG.    615 

formance  again,  apparently  getting  the  second  duck 
under  his  jaw  as  before,  and  pushing  it  forward  as  he 
swam. 

''When  he  had  brought  both  ducks  as  far  as  the  de- 
coys, the  second  again  washed  out  from  under  his  jaw. 
Here  he  hesitated  and  looked  toward  the  shore,  and 
finding  it  not  far  off,  he  abandoned  the  second  duck, 
took  the  one  he  had  in  his  mouth  to  the  bank,  dropped 
it  there,  w^ent  back  to  the  drifting  duck,  got  it  and 
brought  it  to  the  pile  in  the  boat.  He  then  jumped 
out  of  the  boat,  got  the  duck  he  had  left  in  the  edge  of 
the  marsh,  took  it  to  the  pile  in  the  boat,  and  before 
curling  himself  down  gave  me  a  most  intelligent  glance, 
which  said  as  plainly  as  language  could,  'Master,  don't 
you  think  that  was  well  thought  out?' 

"I  fully  agreed  with  him." 

The  whole  matter  of  the  intelligence  shown  by  these 
dogs  in  their  work  in  the  water  and  the  marsh  is  very 
interesting. 

The  gunner  who  for  the  first  time  witnesses  the  work 
of  the  Chesapeake  Bay  dog  is  likely  to  be  astonished  by 
sometimes  seeing  the  animal  plunge  into  the  water, 
and,  swimming  to  the  place  where  a  wounded  bird  has 
fallen,  take  up  the  scent  and  follow  on  the  water  the 
trail  of  the  "sneaking"  duck,  which  has  passed  along 
over  the  water  swimming  toward  the  marsh. 

We  usually  assume  that  water  washes  away  scent, 
and  believe  that  deer  and  other  animals  take  to  the 
water  to  throw  the  dogs  off  their  trail.  This  is  un- 
doubtedly true,  and  yet,  as  I  say,  it  is  a  common  thing 


6l6  DUCK    SHOOTING. 

to  see  a  crippled  bird  fall  in  the  water  and  swim  away 
toward  the  marsh  and  to  see  a  dog  going  after  it,  turn 
when  he  readies  the  place  where  it  fell,  or  the  path 
where  it  passed,  and  follow  the  watery  trail  to  the 
marsh,  and  then  up  on  to  the  bank. 

In  some  cases  it  is  possible  that  the  dog  may  smell 
blood  which  has  flowed  from  the  bird's  wound  and  left 
its  odor  on  the  w^ater,  but  I  do  not  think  that  such  an 
explanation  will  account  for  the  dog's  actions  in  a  ma- 
jority of  cases. 

I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  particles  of  grease  de- 
tach themselves  constantly  from  the  well  oiled  plumage 
of  the  ducks  and  geese  and  float  upon  the  water,  and 
that  it  is  the  odor  of  these  particles  which  the  dog 
smells  and  follows.  It  is  often  to  be  observed  that  to 
the  leeward  of  a  duck  which  has  fallen  in  the  water, 
or  of  a  live  decoy,  there  is  an  area  of  water  smoother 
than  the  surrounding  water — a  sort  of  ''slick" — which 
is  probably  caused  by  the  oil  which  comes  from  the 
bird's  plumage.  This  hypothesis  would  seem  to  ac- 
count for  the  power  of  the  Chesapeake  Bay  dog  to  fol- 
low the  trail  of  a  swimming  duck  over  reasonably 
quiet  waters. 


ADDENDUM. 


The  following  notes  are  intended  to  supplement  the 
remarks  on  the  distribution  of  certain  of  the  species 
given  in  the  body  of  the  book.  They  are  very  general, 
but  will  possess  an  interest  for  some  readers : 

Trumpeter  Swan  {Olor  buccinator). 

By  many  persons  this  species  is  regarded  as  being  on 
the  point  of  extinction.  Of  late  years  it  has  been  very 
rarely  seen.  In  the  autumn  of  1893,  one  was  taken  at 
Lake  St.  Clair,  Mich.,  and  much  more  recently,  Dr. 
J.  C.  Phillips  recorded  one  from  Matamoros,  Mexico. 

Whistling  Swan  {Olor  cohimbianus). 

For  many  years  swans  have  been  very  unusual  on 
the  New  England  Coast,  but  recently  they  have  been 
observed  there  on  a  number  of  occasions.  In  the 
autumn  of  191 7,  a  flock  alighted  on  a  pond  in  Maine, 
and  two  or  three  birds  were  taken  from  it. 

A  notable  example  of  the  disasters  which  so  often 
overtake  migrating  birds  was  seen  in  March,  1908, 
when  a  large  number  of  swans  were  destroyed  at 
Niagara  Falls. 

On  the  morning  of  March   14,  a  flock  of  several 
6i6a 


6l6b  DUCK  SHOOTING. 

hundred  swans  alighted  in  the  Upper  Niagara  River, 
below  Grand  Island,  and  began  to  drift  down  toward 
the  Canadian  Rapids.  After  a  time  they  were  carried 
over  the  Falls  and  about  midday  on  the  15th,  the 
waters  below  the  Falls  seemed  to  be  covered  with  a 
mass  of  swans,  most  of  which  were  swept  down  to 
the  ice  bridge  below.  Some  of  the  birds  were  dead, 
many  were  injured,  and  all  absolutely  confused.  These 
birds  were  at  once  attacked  by  men,  who  destroyed  a 
great  number  by  shooting  and  clubbing.  It  is  sup- 
posed that  one  hundred  birds  were  either  slaughtered 
or  recovered  dead  or  injured  between  the  Falls  and 
the  ice  bridge.  Two  or  three  days  later  three  more 
swans  were  found,  one  of  which  was  alive,  and  being 
taken  to  the  Buffalo  Zoological  Park,  recovered.  On 
Sunday,  the  22d,  a  few  more  swans  came  over  the 
Falls,  of  which  three  were  seen  to  rise  from  the  water 
and  fly  back  over  the  Falls. 

In  the  spring  of  1909,  a  similar  occurrence  took 
place,  but  the  loss  was  much  less.  Late  in  March 
eleven  swans  were  taken  on  the  ice  bridge,  of  which 
one  or  more  were  alive.  Others  were  seen  to  rise  and 
fly  up  the  river.  In  191 1  swans  again  came  over  the 
Falls,  and  so  again  in  19 12.  In  that  year  the  birds 
were  discovered  April  6,  and  estimates  of  the  number 
taken  ranged  from  125  to  200.  It  seems  evident  that 
the  Upper  Niagara  River  is  a  usual  stopping  place  for 
these  swans,  and  it  is  altogether  probable  that  acci- 
dents such  as  this  have  always  been  of  more  or  less 
frequent  occurrence. 


ADDENDUM.  6l6c 

Since  the  passage  of  the  Federal  Migratory  Bird 
Law  swans  have  been  protected  by  regulation  at  all 
times.  This  has  resulted  in  an  increase  of  the  birds 
found  on  their  wintering  grounds,  notably  on  the  coast 
of  North  Carolina.  Here  the  natives  who  formerly 
made  a  business  of  killing  swans  in  winter,  have  com- 
plained of  the  restrictions,  and  pointed  to  the  increase 
in  the  number  of  the  birds.  They  do  not  realize  that 
in  winter  a  large  proportion  of  all  the  swans  in  North 
America  are  gathered  here  in  a  comparatively  small 
territory.  One  complaint  by  the  native  gunners  is  that 
the  swans  consume  much  food  that  otherwise  would 
serve  to  support  the  ducks. 

Blue  Goose  {Chen  coenilescens.) 

The  winter  home  of  the  blue  goose  seems  to  be  about 
the  mouths  of  the  Mississippi,  and  here  it  is  found  in 
great  numbers.  It  is  stated  that  they  do  great  damage 
to  the  pastures  by  tearing  up  the  roots  of  the  various 
grasses,  which  constitute  their  food.  In  recent  years 
it  has  been  the  custom  of  the  cattle  owners  in  certain 
regions  there  to  hire  men  to  drive  the  geese  away,  but 
such  efforts  are  not  very  successful.  The  migration 
line  of  the  blue  goose  seems  to  be  up  and  down  the 
Mississippi  Valley;  yet,  occasionally,  as  already  sug- 
gested, they  wander  away  from  that  line.  In  1910 
Mr.  McAtee  secured  one  at  St.  Vincent  Island,  Fla., 
and  in  the  autumn  of  19 12  and  of  191 3  several  were 
killed  at  Montauk  Point,  Long  Island,  by  Captain 
J.  H.  Prentice,  of  the  307th  Infantry. 


6i6d  DUCK  SHOOTING. 

Ross's  Goose  {Chen  rossii). 

This  continues  to  be  a  rare  bird,  yet  it  has  been 
taken  in  Colorado,  in  Mexico  and  in  Florida — a  wide 
distribution. 

White-fronted  Goose  (Anser  albifrons  gamheli). 

Within  the  last  twenty  years,  there  are  two  or  three 
records  of  the  capture  of  this  species  in  Massachusetts. 

Black  Brant  (Branta  nigricans). 

The  black  brant  is  accidental  on  the  Atlantic  Coast, 
and  its  capture  should  always  be  recorded.  In  1910 
one  was  secured  in  Massachusetts,  at  Chatham. 

European  Teal  (Nettion  crecca). 

In  March,  1900,  one  was  taken  near  Scarborough, 
Maine,  and  in  April  1903,  one  was  killed  in  Casco  Bay, 
Maine,  and  reported  by  Mr.  Henry  H.  Brock,  of 
Portland,  Me. 

In  the  year  1900,  two  European  teal  were  killed  on 
Long  Island,  near  the  town  of  Merrick. 

Mallard  {Anas  bosckas,  now  A.  platyrhynchus) . 

Twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago  the  mallard  was 
regarded  as  extremely  unusual  in  New  England  and 
on  the  Atlantic  Coast  was  much  less  common  than  the 
black  duck.  Of  late  years  it  is  found  more  frequently 
in  New  England,  and  has  become  very  common  on  the 
Atlantic  Coast  to  the  southward,  and  in  certain  years 
seems  as  abundant  as  the  black  duck. 


ADDENDUM.  6i6e 

Baldpate     or     Widgeon      {Mareca     americana      and 
M.  penelope). 

Immature  specimens  of  the  American  and  European 
widgeon  are  so  similar  that  often  they  are  difficult  to 
distinguish.  The  adults  of  penelope  will  at  once  be 
recognized,  but  the  young  may  easily  be  confused. 

In  Forest  and  Stream  of  April  15,  191 1,  Dr.  J.  C. 
Phillips  noted  a  difference  in  plumage  which  will 
enable  the  gunner  to  distinguish  the  two  species  at 
any  age.    He  says  : 

"It  is  well  known  to  sportsmen  that  the  widgeon  of 
the  Old  World  is  not  infrequently  taken  in  America. 
It  is  not,  however,  realized  that  this  bird  must  be  far 
commoner  in  our  waters  than  the  long  list  of  recorded 
instances  of  its  capture  would  indicate,  because  almost 
the  only  examples  which  are  noticed  as  peculiar,  and 
therefore  saved  as  specimens,  are  adult  males.  Such 
birds  must  be  outnumbered  at  least  three  to  one  by 
females,  young  males  and  adult  males  in  eclipse 
plumage — the  male  widgeon  not  assuming  its  nuptial 
dress  till  near  midwinter. 

"It  is  not  surprising  that  gunners  have  failed  to  find 
birds  when  out  of  plumage,  because  ornithologists 
have  always  been  puzzled  to  distinguish  with  absolute 
certainty  between  the  American  and  European  species 
when  clothed  in  these  nearly  similar  dresses.  The 
European  species  is  usually  more  ruddy  in  coloring, 
especially  about  the  head,  than  the  American  bird  in 
corresponding  plumage,  but  this  character  is  not  always 
found  to  hold.    Worn  or  faded  specimens  of  the  female 


6i6f 


DUCK  SHOOTING. 


or  young  male  of  the  European  widgeon  are'  almost 
identical  with  our  American  species,  so  far  as  a  super- 
ficial inspection  goes. 

"There  is,  however,  a  very  simple,  though  infallible. 


AxiLLARs  OF  Baldpate  {Mavcca  americana). 


AxiLLARS  OF  European  Widgeon    (Mareca  penelope). 


way  of  telling  the  European  from  the  American  species, 
regardless  of  the  sex,  age  or  plumage  of  the  specimen, 
and  if  this  point  is  attended  to  by  gunners,  we  shall 
soon  have  more  accurate  information  regarding  the 


ADDENDUM.  6l6g 

status  of  the  European  widgeon  in  this  country.  The 
character  referred  to  is  the  color  of  the  axillars.  The 
axillars,  which  are  well  developed  in  ducks,  are  the 
long,  stiff,  narrow  feathers  which  are  found  under  the 
wing,  lying  close  to  the  body  of  the  bird,  and  about 
four  inches  in  length.  They  rise  from  a  point  close  to 
where  the  wing  joins  the  body.  In  our  widgeon  these 
feathers  are  pure  white  in  all  plumages,  while  in  the 
European  species  they  are  always  gray. 

"It  is  necessary  to  explain  a  little  further,  so  that  no 
confusion  may  exist.  In  fully  adult  European  widgeon 
the  axillars  closed  together  may  look  almost  white,  but 
if  the  feathers  are  spread  apart,  the  inner  web  will 
always  be  found  to  be  distinctly  marked  with  gray. 
In  the  American  bird,  both  webs  (that  is,  both  sides  of 
the  central  shaft  of  the  axillars)  will  always  be  found 
to  be  white.  Occasional  specimens  sometimes  show  a 
very  slight  dusky  discoloration  at  the  extreme  tips  of 
the  feathers.  Sometimes  also  the  shafts  of  the  axillars 
will  be  found  blackish  in  color,  but  this  does  not  affect 
the  pure  white  of  the  feather  as  a  whole,  both  of  the 
inner  and  outer  webs. 

"The  accompanying  sketch  shows  at  a  glance  the 
appearance  of  the  whole  group  of  axillars  in  each 
species,  drawn  from  adult  male  specimens." 

Of  late  years  the  European  widgeon  seems  to  occur 
in  the  United  States  more  and  more  frequently. 
Whether  that  means  that  it  is  growing  more  abundant 
or  that  gunners  are  becoming  more  observant,  it  would 
perhaps  be  hard  to  say. 


6i6h  DUCK  SHOOTING. 

Black   Duck,    or   Dusky   Duck    {Anas   ohscura,   now 
A.  riihripesy  and  A,  r.  tristis). 

There  has  been  much  discussion  over  the  various 
forms  of  the  black  duck,  but  the  general  opinion  now 
seems  to  be  that  the  two  forms  just  noted  are  valid 
species,  though  there  are  not  wanting  excellent 
ornithologists  who  still  deny  this.  Just  as  the  mallard 
has  seemed  to  work  its  way  further  eastward,  so  the 
black  duck  seems  to  be  working  westward.  For  many 
years  it  was  considered  a  bird  of  the  Atlantic  Coast, 
but  in  later  years  it  has  been  killed  in  the  Middle  West, 
and  recently  Mr.  W.  B.  Mershon  has  told  me  of  the 
capture  of  a  specimen  at  Davidson  in  Saskatchewan. 

American  Merganser  (Mergus  americanus) . 

The  goosander  has  been  taken  as  far  south  as  Florida 
and  Bermuda,  but  must  be  very  unusual  there.  A 
specimen  killed  in  January,  191 8,  at  Currituck  Sound, 
N.  C,  was  not  recognized  by  any  of  the  local  gunners. 
They  did  not  know  what  it  was,  and,  of  course,  had 
no  name  for  it.     It  was  taken  by  Mr.  A.  C.  Cass. 


INDEX, 


V, 


Africa,  88,  104. 

Aix  sponsa,  139-142. 

Alabama,  336. 

Alaska,  35,  40,  41,  49,  54.  63,  64,  7h  73. 
109,  114,  124,  133,  13s,  149,  161,  166, 
168,  174,  179,  182,  186,  191,  196,  198, 
206,  210,  212,  227,  231. 

Albemarle  Sound,  150,  172. 

Aleutian  Islands,  64,  116,  182,  198. 

America,  Arctic,  52,  83,  136,  186,  210, 
212,  218,  402. 

America,  British,  114,  166,  168,  174, 
182,  320,  577. 

America,  Central,  78,  iii,  119,  124, 
148,  165,  168,  542. 

America,  North,  22,  23,  26,  40,  41,  60, 
72,  85,  91,  104,  107,  116,  119,  130,  132, 
135,  146,  148,  161,  165,  166,  168,  171, 
174,  182,  186,  193,  211,  2x8,  221,  224, 
231,  235. 

America,  South,  78,  130,  221,  224,  542. 

Anas,  19. 

Anas  americana,  110-115. 

Anas  boschas,  87-92. 

Anas  carolinensis,   118-12I0 

Anas  crecca,  116,  117. 

Anas  discors,  122-125. 

Anas  fulvigula,  95,  96. 

Anas  fulvigula  maculosa,  97,  98,  99. 

Anas    obscura,  93,  94. 

Anas  penelope,  107-109. 

Anas  strepera,  103-106. 

Anatidae,   19,   22,  225. 

Anatinae,  23,  85. 

Anderson  River,  218,  233. 

Anser,  41,  53. 

Anser  albifrons,  53. 

Anseres,  19. 

Anserinae,  39,  75. 


Anticosti,  104. 

Autonnierre,  124. 

Apium,  158. 

Archaeopteryx,  19. 

Arctic  Ocean,  54,  60,  63,  71,  90,  tig, 

13s,  206,  210,  353,  578. 
Arkansas,  562,  581,  582. 
Arkansas  River,  260. 
Asia,  88,   104,   117,   165,   182,   190,   196, 

210. 
Assemblyman,  215. 
Atlantic  Coast,  35,  40,  44,  47,  54,  60, 

63,  67,  70,  71,  89,  90,   los,  106,   112, 

148,  161,  190,  193,  201,  203,  212,  214, 

221,  22s,  264,  273,  282,  294,  296,  332, 

402,  546,  568,  588. 
Audubon,   J.    J.,   25,   36,  44,   63,    125, 

212,  228,  236,  237. 
Aythya  aftinis,  167-169. 
Aythya  collaris,  170-172. 
Aythya  marila  nearctica,  164-166. 
Aythya  vallisneria,  147-159. 

Back  Bay,  548. 
Back  River,  483. 
Bald-crown,  115,  486. 
Bald-face,  115. 
Bald-head,  115. 
Bald-pate,  no,  in,  219,  486. 
Baltimore,  473,  474,  481,  483. 
Barnston,  G.,  44. 
Barren  Lands,  54,  214. 
Bass  River,  298. 
Batteries,  549-556,  605,  6od. 
Bellot's  Straits,  70. 
Bendire,  Capt.  C,  52,  149. 
Benjies,  474.  477- 

Bering   Sea,  64,   71,  72,   73,   191,  206, 
210,  215. 


GV 


6i8 


INDEX. 


Bering  Straits,  210. 

Bermuda,  105,  218. 

Bill,  19,  20. 

Bird,  G.,  509. 

Bittern,  360,  365,  400. 

Blackbird,  348,  387,  399,  524. 

Black-head,  138,  163,  165,  183,  236,  398, 

438,  474,  480,  481,  486. 
Black-head,  Creek,  168. 
Black-head,  Little,  165,  167-169,  171. 
Black-head,  Ring-billed,  171. 
Black-head,  Ring-necked,  171. 
Black-jack,  376. 
Black  Walnut  Point,  487. 
Blinds,  546-548. 
Blossom-bill,  219. 
Blossom-head,  219. 
Blue-bill,  165,  355,  362,  363,  364,  365. 
Blue-bill,  Little,  168. 
Blue-bill,  Marsh,  168,  171. 
Blue-bill,  Mud,  168. 
Blue-bill,  River,  168. 
Boardman,   G.  A.,  ici,  112,  175,  182, 

227,  235. 
Boats,  557-575- 
Booby,  222. 

Brandywine   Creek,   158. 
Brant,  39,  40,  45,  54,  64,  65,  67-71,  279- 

316,  360,  362,  365,  368,  373,  374,  376. 
Brant,  Bald,  45. 
Brant,  Black,  40,  67,  69. 
Brant,  Blue,  45. 
Brant,  Goose,  63. 
Brant,  Harlequin,  54. 
Brant,  Pied,  54. 
Brant,  Prairie,  54,  254. 
Brant,  Salt-water,  55. 
Brant,  Sea,  215. 
Brant,  White,  278,  402. 
Brant  Island,  599. 
Branta,  40. 

Branta  bernicia,  67,  68. 
Branta  canadensis,  56-64. 
Branta  canadensis  hutchinsii,  56,  58, 
Branta  canadensis  minima,  56,  59. 
Branta    canadensis    occidentalis,    56, 

58,  59- 
Branta  leucopsis,  65,  66. 
Branta  nigricans,  67,  69. 


Brass-eye,  177. 

Breeding-grounds,  27-31. 

Brewer,  Dr.  T.  M.,  28,  63,  90,  136. 

Brewster,  W.,  176. 

Bristle-tail,  222. 

British  Columbia,  64,  105,  592. 

Broad-bill,   24,   163,    164-166,   167,   168, 

330,  423,  425,  426,  438,  453,  510. 
Broad-bill,  Bastard,  171. 
Broad-bill,  Fresh-water,  168 
Broad-bill,  Hard-headed,  222. 
Broad-bill,   Little,  168. 
Broad-bill,  Mud,  168. 
Broad-bill,  Red-headed,  163, 
Broad-bill,  River,  168. 
Broad-bill,  Sleepy,  22a. 
Broady,   133. 
Brown,  A.  E.,  533. 
Bull-head,   177. 
Burlington,  442. 
Bush  River,  483. 
Butter-ball,  81,  153,  182,  183,  184,  376^ 

5 10. 
Butter-box,  184. 
Butter-duck,  184. 

Calais,  Me.,  loi,  112,  162,  172,  175, 
179,  182,  228. 

California,  35,  41,  42,  47,  52,  54,  63, 
64,  72,  78,  79,  89,  105,  109,  114,  127, 
148,  161,  165,  172,  186,  190,  212,  215, 
221,  278,  335,  340,  430,  464,  46s,  493, 
592. 

Camptolaimus  labradorius,  192-194. 

Canada,  31,  90,  91,  98,  177,  570,  590. 

Canard  Frangais,  91. 

Cape  Cod,  295,  297,  300,  315. 

Cape  Malabar,  298. 

Carroll's  Island,  332,  474-479. 

Cary,   W.   A.,  315. 

Cascade  Mountains,  149. 

Castle,  W.  W.,  580. 

Cavileer,   N.,  463. 

Celery,  Wild,  157,  158,  318,  486. 

Champlain,  Lake,  224,  441,  527. 

Charitonetta  albeola,  175,  i8l-l84« 

Chase  Pass,  320,  321. 

Chatham,  296,  299,  302. 

Chen,  41,  53. 


INDEX. 


619 


Chen  caerulescens,  43-45. 

Chen  hyperborea,  46,  47. 

Chen  hyperborea  nivalis,  48-50. 

Chenalopex,   75. 

Chesapeake  Bay,  35,  98,  112,  149,  158, 

162,  212,  218,  244,  274,  280,  436,  440, 

472-489,   515.  519.   547.  589.   593.  596, 

606,  607. 
Chester  River,  485,  487,  488. 
Chile,  130. 
China,  141,  231. 
Choptank  River,  485,  486,  487. 
Clangula  hyemalis,   185-188. 
Cob-head,  177. 
Cock-robin,  237. 
Coit,  O.  B.,  453. 
Cold  Spring  Harbor,  538. 
Colorado,  105,  120. 
Columbia  River,  127. 
Commander  Islands,  73,  182, 
Connecticut,  99,   120,  136,  418,  481. 
Cook's  Inlet,  64. 
Coot,  201,  212,  214,  215,  218,  219,  296, 

330,  331.  421,  422,  423.  424.  42s.  431. 

453.  534- 
Coot,  Bell-tongue,  215. 
Coot,  Booby,  222. 
Coot,  Brant,  215. 
Caot,  Brown,  219. 
Coot,   Bull,  215. 
Coot,  Butter-boat-billed,  219. 
Coot,  Gray,  219. 
Coot,   Hollow-billed,  218. 
Coot,  Patch-polled,  219. 
Coot,  Pied-winged,  215. 
Coot,  Quill-tail,  222. 
Coot,  Sleepy,  222. 
Coot,  Spectacle,  219. 
Coot,  Spectacled-bill,  219. 
Coot,  Uncle  Sam,  215. 
Coot,  White-winged,  214,  421. 
Coppermine  River,  206. 
Core  Sound,  150,  172. 
Coues,  Dr.  E.,  127. 
Cow-frog,  133. 
Crane,  347,  348. 

Crane,  Sandhill,  38,  362,  3^5.  377.  538. 
Cuba,  49,  54,  119,  135,  174. 
Cub-head,  177. 


Cunningham,  J.,  566. 

Curlew,  Sickle-bill,  413. 

Currituck  Sound,  35,  40,  49,  54,  61, 
65,  150,  151,  157.  172.  236,  244,  246, 
378,  380,  383,  402,  403,  534,  548,  598, 
599- 

Cutbank  Creek,  52. 

Cygninse,  22,  33-38. 

Cygnus,  33. 

Cygnus  buccinator,  36-38. 

Cygnus  columbianus,  34,  35. 

Cygnus  cygnus,  35. 

Dafila  acuta,  82,  134-138. 

Dakota,    133,    135,    148,    161,    168,   212, 

253.  255. 
Dakota,  North,  165,  251,  318,  321,  327, 

461,  588,  592,  596. 
Dakota,  South,  251. 
Dall,  Dr.  W.  H.,  35,  73,  124,  149.  166, 

210. 

Dapper,  184. 

Darlington,  Dr.,   158. 

Dawson,  320. 

Dead  Buffalo  Lake,  318. 

Decoys,  61,  70,  89,  loi,  162,  244,  252, 
253.  254,  257,  260-263,  268-273,  279, 
300,  301,  303,  304,  372,  373,  377,  384- 
387,  391,  42s,  426,  434-436,  441,  443- 
447,  463,  469,  484.  48s.  522-532,  549, 
555. 

Delaware,  49,  457. 

Delaware  Bay,  278. 

Delaware  River,  40,  203,  ai8,  457. 

Dendrocygna,  23,  75. 

Dendrocygna  autumnalis,  76-78. 

Dendrocygna  fulva,  79,  80. 

Denmark,  196. 

Derbyshire,   191. 

Die-dipper,  184. 

Dipper,  183,  184,  330. 

Dipper,  Little,  177. 

Dipper,  Scotch,  184. 

Distribution,  26. 

Diver,  184,  360. 

Diver,  Dip-tail,  222. 

Diver,  Saw-bill,  237. 

Dogs,  406-410,  431,   515-521,  6ri, 


620 


INDEX. 


Domestication,  52,  59,  61,  62,  66,  70, 
77,  100,  117,  142,  372,  532-545. 

Dopper,   184. 

Douglas,  Mr.,  567. 

Dovekie,  402. 

Drake,  Sea,  201. 

Drake,  Welsh,  106. 

Drake,  Wild,  91. 

Duck,  Big  Fowl,  165. 

Duck,  Black,  24,  25,  52,  91,  93,  94, 
98,  99,  100,  loi,  102,  132,  136,  232, 
292,  296,  312,  330,  331,  355,  378,  387, 
390,  392,  398,  403.  421,  423.  425,  443. 
456,  488,  507.  510,  524,  527.  532,  533- 

Duck,  Black-bellied  Tree,  76-78,  80. 

Duck,  Blaten,  106. 

Duck,  Brewer's,  25. 

Duck,   Brown  Tree,  79. 

Duck,  Buffalo-headed,  184. 

Duck,  Buffle-head,  175,  181-184,  330, 
531. 

Duck,  Butler,  133, 

Duck,  Call,  543. 

Duck,  Canvas-back,  24,  112,  137,  144, 
147-159,  160,  161,  162,  169,  236,  319, 
320,  332,  355,  376,  379,  382,  391,  392, 
398,  438,  473,  474,  482,  486,  493,  495, 
510,  544. 

Duck,  Channel,  215. 

Duck,  Conjuring,  177,  184. 

Duck,  Corn-field,  77. 

Duck,  Creek,  106. 

Duck,  Deaf,  222. 

Duck,  Domestic,  87,  88,  91. 

Duck,  Dusky,  93,  98,  loi. 

Duck,  English,  91. 

Duck,  Fiddler,  77. 

Duck,  Florida,  96,  97,  102. 

Duck,  Florida  Dusky,  95,  96,  loi, 
102. 

Duck,  Fool,  222. 

Duck,  French,  91. 

Duck,   Fulvous-bellied  Tree,  79,  80. 

Duck,  German,  106. 

Duck,  Gray,  91,  106. 

Duck,  Harlequin,  81,  189-191,  418, 
425. 

Duck,  Heavy-tailed,  222. 


Duck,  Isles  of  Shoals,  201. 

Duck,  Labrador,  192-194. 

Duck,  Little  Brown,  184. 

Duck,  Long-legged,  77. 

Duck,    Long-tailed,    81,    185-188,    418, 

422,  426. 
Duck,  Mandarin,  21,  141,  542,  544. 
Duck,  Masked,  223,  224. 
Duck,  Mottled,  97,  98,  99,  102. 
Duck,  Mountain,  191. 
Duck,  Muscovy,  25,  91. 
Duck,  Old-squaw,  82,  185-188,  215,  219, 

330,  418,  422,  423,  424,  425,  426,  437, 

453,  461,  481,  534- 
Duck,  Pacific  Eider,  84. 
Duck,  Painted,  191. 
Duck,  Pied,  193. 
Duck,  Pied  Gray,  138. 
Duck,  Raft,  165. 
Duck,  Red-headed  Raft,  163. 
Duck,  Ring-necked,   170-172. 
Duck,  Rock,   191. 
Duck,   Ruddy,   153,   177,  220-222,  224, 

532. 
Duck,  Rufous-crested,  145,  146. 
Duck,  Sand-shoal,  193. 
Duck,  Scaup,  83,  165. 
Duck,  Scotch,  184. 
Duck,  Sea,  201,  218,  305. 
Duck,  Shoal,  201. 
Duck,  Skunk,  193. 
Duck,  Sleepy,  222. 
Duck,  Smoking,  115. 
Duck,  Spirit,  177,  184. 
Duck,  Steller's,  195,  196. 
Duck,  Stock,  91. 
Duck,  Summer,  533. 
Duck,  Surf,  218. 
Duck,  Tufted,  171,  376,  438. 
Duck,  Washington  Canvas-back,  163. 
Duck,  Wheat,  115. 
Duck,  Wild,  91. 
Duck,    Wood,    25,    139-142,    175,    176, 

235,  356,  357,  363,  365,  366,  367,  535, 

540-544- 
Duck,  Yellow-bellied  Fiddler,  80. 
Duckinmallard,  91. 
Ducks,  Diving,  143-224,  486. 


INDEX, 


621 


Ducks,  Fish,  23,  225-237. 

Ducks,  Fresh-water,  24,  25,  81,  85,  98, 

112,   136,  137,   144,  169,  426,  431. 
Ducks,  Non-diving,  85-142. 
Ducks,  Sea,  23,  24,  81,   143,   144,  214, 

225,  232,  418,  425. 
Ducks,  Shoal-v/ater,  23,   143. 
Ducks,  Tree,  23,  75-80,  542. 

Eagle,  White-headed,  398. 

Eastern  Bay,  485,  486,  487. 

Economic  value,  26,  27,  31. 

Eel-grass,  158,  296. 

Eggs,  Exportation  of,  577-579- 

Eggs,  Importation  of,  577. 

Egret,  Snowy,  360,  365. 

Eider,  27,  28,  29,  30,  81,  84,  187,  305, 

331,  418,  425- 
Eider,  American,  202-204. 
Eider,  Common,  200,  201,  202,  203. 
Eider,  King,  208-210,  425. 
Eider,  Pacific,  205-207. 
Eider,  Spectacled,  197-199. 
Elliot,   D.   G.,  64,   112,    144,   179,  183, 

232,  237,  246. 
Elliot,  H.  W.,  73. 
Enemies,  596,  597. 
England,  66,  106,  577. 
Eniconetta  stelleri,  195,  196. 
Erie,  Lake,  179,  210. 
Erismatura  rubida,  220-222. 
Eskimo,  44,  61,  74,  198,  250,  597. 
Europe,  65,  66,   70,  88,   104,   109,   iii, 

165,  174,  179,  186,  190,  191,  201,  227, 

231.  23s,  S44- 

Falkland  Islands,  130. 
Fargo,  329. 
Farmer,  G.  T.,  563. 
Fielden,  Capt.,  69. 
Fisherman,  233. 
Fisherman's  Lake,  278. 
Fishing  Bay,  485. 
Flight,  S08-510. 
Floating,  464. 

Florida,  35,  loi,  102,  109,  124,  127,  168, 
186,  236. 


Food  of  Ducks,  23,  24,  80,  85,  98,  99, 
100,  112,  124,  125,  143,  148,  157,  165, 
169,  176,  188,  204,  206,  210,  214,  225, 
229,  353,  371,  418,  454,  462,  464,  406, 
534,  539,  541,  593- 

Food  of  Geese,  41,  48,  50,  55,  70,  251, 
283,  297,  372. 

Food  of  Swans,  245. 

"Forest  and  Stream,"  150-157,  175, 
176,  228,  251,  255-259,  264-267,  268- 
273.  274-278,  295-315,  317-330,  336-340, 
341-351,  355-365,  416,  449-453,  453-455, 
465-472,  517-520,  528-532,  534-545,  558, 
560,  577,  579,  580,  581,  585,  598,  602, 
609. 

Fort  Brown,  78. 

Fort  Missoula,  52. 

Fort  Tejon,  78. 

Fort  Yukon,   149. 

Franklin  Bay,  71. 

Fraser  River,  37. 

Fuca,  Straits  of,  71. 

Fuligulinae,  20,  23,  143. 

Fulix  affinis,  137. 

Fundy,  Bay  of,  203,  210. 

Gadwall,  25,  83,  103-106,  433. 

Galveston,  598. 

Gavia  imber,  308. 

Geese,  19,  21,  22,  39-74,  250-278,  331, 
332,  360,  363,  365,  366,  367,  368,  369, 
370,  376,  404,  405,  406,  421,  424,  425, 
433,  437,  461,  462,  463,  464,  467,  487, 
488,  495,  524,  527,  534,  538,  585,  586, 
599- 

Georgia,  509. 

Georgia,  Gulf  of,  215. 

Giraud,  J.  P.,  106,  193. 

Glaucionetta  clangula  americana, 
173-177. 

Glaucionetta  islandica,  178-180. 

Golden-eye,  173-177,  178,  180,  418. 

Golden-eye,  Barrow's,  175,  178-180, 
231. 

Golofin  Sound,  71. 

Goosander,  225,  227,  229,  231,  404. 

Goose,  Bald-headed,  45. 

Goose,  Barnacle,  40,  65,  66. 

Goose,  Blue,  40,  43-45,  49,  254,  374. 


622 


INDEX. 


Goose,  Brant,  67. 

Goose,  Cackling,  56,  59,  64. 

Goose,  Canada,  22,   40,   41,   56-64,  68, 

254,  258.  296,  374.  377,  402,  469.  47if 

472,  520,  533. 
Goose,  Chinese,  533. 
Goose,  Egyptian,   533. 
Goose,  Emperor,  72-74. 
Goose,  Eskimo,  63. 
Goose,  Great  Gray,  40,  41,  353,  362, 

402,  424,  472. 
Goose,  Greater  Snow,  48-50,  51. 
Goose,  Hutchins's,  56,  S7,  58,  59.  63, 

254. 
Goose,  Laughing,  54,  374. 
Goose,  Lesser  Snow,  46,  47. 
Goose,  Marsh,  63. 
Goose,  Mud,  63. 
Goose,  Prairie,  63. 
Goose,  Ross's,  40,  49,  50,  51,  52,  67. 
Goose,  Snow,  40,  52,  55,  254,  374,  377, 

402. 
Goose,  Tundrina,  64. 
Goose,  Western,   56,  58,  59. 
Goose,  White,  469,  472. 
Goose,  White-cheeked,  56,  57,  58,  59, 

64. 
Goose,  White-fronted,  41,   53-55,  254, 

374,  377. 
Goose,  White-headed,  45,  74. 
Gotdhaab,  70. 
Grand  Island,  442,  443. 
Grand  Lake  Stream,  228. 
Greaser,  222. 

Great  Britain,  66,  117,  196. 
Great-head,  177. 
Great  Lakes,   143,  203,  210,  214,  218, 

453- 
Great  Slave  Lake,  124,  136,  149. 
Great  South   Bay,   162,   166,  273,  280, 

282,  283,  294,  434. 
Grebe,  431. 
Greece,  88. 
Green  River,  374. 
Greenhead,  91. 
Greenland,  22,  27,  35,  54,  65,  70,   135, 

210,  216,  231,  402. 
Grouse,  326. 
Gulf  States,  124. 


Gull,  Bonaparte's,  232. 
Gunpowder  River,  476,  477,  483. 
Guns,  493-495- 

Hairy-crown,  237,  403,  404. 

Hairy-head,  237. 

Hapgood,   W.,  295. 

Hard-head,  222. 

Hardtack,  222. 

Havre   de   Grace,    158,   473,   481,   484, 

544- 
"Hen,   Guinea,"  74. 
Hennepin  Club,  566, 
Heron,  352,  360,  365,  400,  401,  524. 
Hickory-head,  222. 
Hills  Point,  487. 

Histrionicus  histrionicus,   189-191. 
Hogg  Bay,  486. 
Holding,  502-506. 
Holland,  543. 
Holland  Strait,  485. 
Hooper  Straits,  485. 
Horse-head,  219. 
Hough,   E.,  317,  341. 
Hudson  River,  351. 
Hudson's  Bay,  37,  44,  47,  49,  65,  90, 

161,   186. 
Hudson's  Bay  Co.,  31. 
Hybrids,  25,  91,   109,  402. 

Ice  work,  572-575. 

Iceland,  27,  28,  179,  186,  190,  191,  201, 

231. 
Idaho,   135,  591. 
Illinois,  89,  105,  109,  210,  335,  371,  374, 

430,  560. 
Illinois  River,  210,  356,  565. 
India,  88. 

Indiana,  89,  236,  335,  374,  560,  567. 
Indians,  37,  44,  49,   61,   129,   130,   161, 

250,  354,  416,  597- 
Iowa,  99,  120,  520. 
Ireland,  66,   117. 
Iron-head,  177. 

James  Bay,  44. 
James  River,  485. 
Japan,   135,  231. 
Jutland,  30. 


INDEX. 


623 


Kamschatka,  135. 
Kansas,  102. 
Kendrick  Lake,  175. 
Kennebunkport,  425. 
Kennicott,  R.,  136. 
Kent  Island  Narrows,  485. 
Kent  Point,  487- 
Kentucky,  236. 
Kipp,  J.,  52- 
Koshkonong,  Lake,  569. 
Krider,  J.,  228. 
Kuskokwim  River,  198. 

Labrador,   30,  44,   201,  203,   212,   214, 

218,  581. 
Labyrinth,  20. 
Lady,  191. 
Lamellae,  19,  225. 
Lamellirostral  Swimmers,  19. 
Lapland,  117. 
Larus  Philadelphia,  232. 
Lead-poisoning,  598-603. 
Light-wood  knot,  222. 
Linden,  C,  210. 
Little  Choptank  River,  485. 
Loading,  495-502. 
Lockwood,   W.,   545- 
Long  Island,  27,  40,  47,  65,  105,  112, 

132,  136,  149,  162,  273,  538,  593- 
Long    Island    Sound,    162,    166,    188, 

201,  209. 
Long-neck,  138. 
Loon,  308,  399,  42i»  423.  437- 
Lophodytes  cucullatus,  234-237. 
Lord,  191. 
Lores,  39. 
Lou's  Point,  486. 

Louisiana,  77,  79,  80,  102,  133,  237. 
Loyd,  A.  T.,  561. 

Macfarlane,  R.,  49,  63,  71,  218,  231. 

Mcllhenny,  E.  A.,  83. 

Mackenzie  River,  37,  54,  135. 

Maine,  44,  loi,  136,  174,  190,  219,  231, 
23s,  418,  425- 

Mallard,  25,  52,  67,  81,  83,  87-92,  98, 
100,  114,  124,  131,  132,  135,  136,  137, 
138,  153.  259,  333.  336,  337.  338,  340, 
342,   343.  345.  355.  356,  357,  358.  362, 


363.  364.  365.  366,  367.  368,  369.  373, 

376,  388,  390,  403.  433.  448,  460,  462, 

463,  488,  495.  507.  510,  533.  535,  537. 

540,  582. 
Mallard,  Gray,  91. 
Manchester  Club,  295,  316. 
Manitoba,  99,  251,  354,  461. 
Many,  F.  D.,  526. 
Marcus  Hook,  457,  458. 
Marionette,  184. 
Market,  Gunning  for  the,  31,  32,  221, 

222,  457,  582,  592,  594,  595. 
Maryland,  109,  133,  260,  473,  574. 
Massachusetts,   70,  99,   136,   174,    179, 

221,  224,  260,  267,  280,  296,  418,  527, 

528. 
Maxwell's  Point,  474. 
Mediterranean  Sea,   186. 
Merganser,    19,  23,   81,    175,   177,  225- 

2Z7,  542. 
Merganser,   American,   226-229. 
Merganser,    Hooded,    153,    175,    176, 

225,  234-237,  403,  542. 
Merganser,  Red-breasted,  84,  230-233, 

404. 
Merganser  americanus,  226-229. 
Merganser  serrator,  230-233. 
^j-erginse,  23,  22^^-22,7. 
Mergus,  30. 
Mergus  albellus,  237. 
Merrill,  Dr.  J.  C,  52,  78,  416- 
Merry-wing,  177. 
Mesquin,  133. 
Mexico,  78,  79,  88,  105,   iii,'  124,  162, 

182,  224,  320,  562. 
Mexico,  Gulf  of,  44,  60,   119,  135. 
Michigan,  90,  161,  540,  560,  592. 
Michigan,  Lake,  179,  210,  540,  570. 
Migration,  25,  26. 
Miles  River,  485,  486. 
Milford,  Conn.;  99. 
Milk  River,  52. 
Minneapolis,  321. 
Minnesota,   41,   90,   99,    105,    148,    161, 

168,  172,  335,  354,  591- 
Mississippi  River,  37,  44,  45,  46,  54. 

56,   67,    105,    114,   124,    127,   212,  333, 

568,  580,  584,  590- 
Missouri,  581,  582. 


624 


INDEX. 


Missouri  River,  22,  61,  351,  584. 
Molt,  37,  59,  60,  74,  81-84,  109,  206. 
Montagu,  G.,  82. 
Montana,  47,  50,  52,  120,  133,  135,  148, 

161,  166,  168,  191. 
Monomoy,  296,  298,  312. 
Monomoy    Branting    Club,   295,    301- 

316. 
Morris,  J.  G.,  487,  488. 
Mud-hen,  360. 
Mud-shoveller,  133. 
Muscle-bill,  219. 
Myers,  E.  J.,  264. 

Nantucket,  299. 
Nanset,  312. 

Narrows  Island,  599,  602. 
Narrows  Island  Qub,  61. 
National  Game,  Fish  and  Bird  Pro- 
tective Association,   576,   577. 
Naumann,  J.   F.,  30. 
Nebraska,   37,   99,   235,   251,   253,   255, 

585,  587- 

Nelson,  E.  W.,  137,  198,  210. 

Netta  rufina,  145,  146. 

Nevada,  79,  105,  161. 

New   Brunswick,  98. 

New  England,  26,  27,  40,  60,  70,  89, 
98,  99,  100,  105,  112,  119,  124,  132, 
136,  149,  162,  165,  167,  168,  172,  177, 
186,  187,  188,  201,  209,  212,  214,  215, 
218,  219,  232,  236,  260,  29s,  331,  332, 
472.  557,  590. 

New  Hampshire,  101,  591. 

New  Jersey,  165,  193,  210,  457. 

New  Orleans,  237. 

New  York,  89,  loi,  109,  116,  146,  165, 
193,  224,  330,  402,  433.  509.  538,  540, 
590. 

Newberry,  Dr.,   149. 

Newfoundland,  592. 

Noddy,  222. 

Nomonyx  dominicus,  223,  224. 

North  Carolina,  25,  49,  65,  70,  98,  101, 
109,  112,  133,  136,  149.  162,  165,  274, 
378,  379.  381,  402,  493,  524.  574.  592. 
598. 

North  Park,  120. 

Norton  Sound,  37,  64,  71,  74,  212. 


Nova  Scotia,  65,  98,  59a. 
Nova  Zembla,  186. 
Norway,  27,  28,  201. 

Ogdensburgh,   179. 

Ohio,  236,  335. 

Oidemia,  422. 

Oidemia  americana,  211,  212. 

Oidemia  deglandi,  213-215. 

Oidemia  fusca,  216. 

Oidemia   perspicillata,   217-219. 

Oie  bleu,  45. 

Olor,  33. 

Ontario,  592. 

Ontario,  Lake,  453. 

Oregon,  35,  52,  149. 

Over-shooting,   582-589. 

Pacific  Coast,  35,  44,  47,  52,  60,  63,  64, 

67,    71,    72,    105,    161,    182,   206,    212, 

214,  215,  23s,  578. 
Paddy,  222. 
Pamlico  Sound,  150. 
Parson's  Island,  487. 
Patagonia,   130. 
Patch-head,  219. 
Pelican,  538. 

Pennsville,  N.  J.,  459,  460. 
Pennsylvania,  109. 
Pewaukee  Lake,  182. 
Phantom  Pond,  465,  472. 
Pheasant,   136. 
Pheasant,   Sea,   138. 
Pheasant,  Water,  138. 
Philacte,  41. 
Philacte  canagica,  72. 
Philadelphia,    Academy    of    Natural 

Sciences  of,  81. 
Philadelphia  Zoological  Garden,  533. 
Phillips,  J.  O.,  528. 
Picket-tail,    138. 
Picot,  L.  J.,  274. 
Pictured-bill,  219. 
Pierson,  Messrs.,  191. 
Pigeon,  Passenger,  509. 
Pintail,   25,   82,   83,   91,    106,    113,    134- 

138,  222,  331,  403,  433.  456,  462,  463, 

405.  509.  510,  545. 
Pishaug,  219. 


INDEX. 


625 


Plaster-bill,  219. 

Platte   River,  254,   255,   256,  260,   585- 

589- 
Plover,  360,  400. 
Plumage,  20,  21,  81-84. 
Poacher,  115. 

Pochard,   European,   163,   544. 
Pocomoke  Sound,  485. 
Point  Barrow,  83,  198. 
Polk,  B.,  585. 
Poplar  Island,   485,  486. 
Powder,   Nitro,  495-499- 
Pribilof  Islands,  73. 
Prince  Edward's  Island,  297. 
Prince  William  Sound,  191. 
Printannierre,   124. 
Providence  Club,  295,  316. 
Purdy,   C.   R.,  283,  285. 
Pyramid  Lake,  105. 

Rail,  Carolina,  399. 

Redhead,  24,  25,  109,  112,  148,  160-163, 

I7i»  319.  320,  332,  343,  355,  379,  433, 

438,  456,  474,  480,  481,  486,  495,  510, 

533,  544- 
Redhead,  Creek,  171. 
Rhode  Island,  418. 
Ridgway,  R.,4,  59,  83,  105,  161,  190,  218. 
Rio  Verde,  127. 
Roanoke  River,  274,  276. 
Robin-dipper,  184. 
Rock  River,  374. 
Rocky  Mountains,  47,  49,  89,  iii,  127, 

161,   168,   174,   179,   190,   191,  431,  447» 

584. 
Ross,  J.,  63,  149. 
Rupert  House,  65. 
Russia,  117,  196. 

Sa-sar-ka,  74. 

Sacramento,   161,  278. 

Sacramento  River,  464. 

Sacramento  Valley,  278. 

Sailing,  460,  461. 

St.  Lawrence,  Gulf  of,  104,  581. 

St.  Lawrence  Island,  196. 

St.  Lawrence  River,  179. 

St.   Mary's   Lake,   50. 

St.  Michael's  Island,  71. 

St.  Paul,  321. 


San  Diego,  71. 

San  Francisco,  464,  465. 

San  Francisco  Bay,  465. 

San  Joaquin  River,  464. 

Sandpiper,  413. 

Sassafras  River,  485. 

Sawbill,  2^2,  404. 

Sawbill,  Big,  233. 

Sawbill,  Little,  237,  542. 

Scaup,  Ring-necked,  171. 

Scotchman,  184. 

Scoter,  187,  201,  330,  426,  461. 

Scoter,  American,  211,  212. 

Scoter,  American  Velvet,  213-215. 

Scoter,   Black,  418. 

Scoter,    Surf,   212,   217-219. 

Scoter,  Velvet,  216. 

Scoter,  White-winged,  212,  418. 

Semmes,  J.  E.,  483. 

Sennett,  G.  B.,  97,  102. 

Sharp-tail,  138. 

Sheep  Island  Point,  153. 

Sheldrake,    28,    30,    228,    230-233,    290, 

314,  426,  453,  542. 
Sheldrake,  European,  30,  75. 
Sheldrake,  Pied,  233. 
Sheldrake,  Swamp,  22,7. 
Shelduck,  233. 

Shepard,  C.  W.,  28,  179,  191,  231. 
Shinnecock  Bay,  273. 
Shooting,   Bar,  294-316,  330,  331. 
Shooting,  Battery,  433-440,  484,  485. 
Shooting,  Brant,  279-316. 
Shooting,     Brant,     from    a    battery, 

279-294. 
Shooting,  California  Marsh,  463-472. 
Shooting,  Cornfield,  371-377. 
Shooting,  Duck,  317-489. 
Shooting,  Duck,  in  Chesapeake  Bay, 

472-489. 
Shooting,     Duck,    in    the    overflow, 

333-335- 
Shooting,    Duck,    in    the    wild    rice 

fields,  351-371- 
Shooting  from  a  house-boat,  440-447. 
Shooting,  Goose,  250-278. 
Shooting,  Goose,  driving,  274-278. 
Shooting,    Goose,  on  the  sand-bars, 

254-260. 


626 


INDEX. 


Shooting,    Goose,    on    the   stubbles, 

251-253- 
Shooting,   Goose,   with   live   decoys, 

260-274. 
Shooting,  Ice  Hole,  447-453. 
Shooting  in  the  Ice,  455-460. 
Shooting,   Night,  481-483,  607. 
Shooting,  Pass,  Z^J-ZZ^. 
Shooting,  Point,  377-417.  426. 
Shooting,  Pond,  464. 
Shooting,   River,  335-351- 
Shooting,  Sea,  418-430. 
Shooting,  Spring,  589-592. 
Shooting,   Stubble,  461-463. 
Shooting,  Swan,  244-249. 
Shooting,  Winter  Duck,  453-455. 
Shot,  500-502. 
Shot-pouch,   222. 
Shovel-bill,  133. 
Shoveller,   19,  91,  131-133.  433- 
Shoveller,  Blue-winged,  133. 
Shoveller,  Red-breasted,  133. 
Shuffler,  Ring-billed,  171. 
Siberia,  66,  JZy  206. 
Sierra   Nevada   Mountains,    105,    190, 

191. 
Silver  Lake,  268,   527. 
Sitka,   179. 

Skunk-head,  217-219,  418. 
Sleepy  Brother,  222. 
Sleepy-head,  222. 
Smew,  237. 
Smith,  J.  G.,  520. 
Smithsonian  Institution,  210. 
Snipe,  137,  360,  365,  400. 
Snuff-taker,  219. 
Somateria  dresseri,   202-204. 
Somateria  mollissima,  305,  313. 
Somateria    mollissima    borealis,    200, 

201. 
Somateria  spectabilis,  208-210. 
Somateria  v-nigra,  205-207. 
South  Carolina,  70,  112,  149,  162,  236^ 

274.  574- 
Southern  States,  89,  100,  112,  141,  335, 

592. 
Spain,  88. 

Species,  Number  of,  26,  85. 
Speckled   Belly,  54,   106. 


Speculum,  21. 

Spesutia  Island,  474,  483. 

Spike-bill,  2Z7. 

Spike-tail,  138. 

Spindle-tail,  138. 

Spine-tail,  222. 

Spitzbergen,  66,  70,  186. 

Split-tail,  138. 

Spoon-bill,  132,  324,  363. 

Sprig-tail,  113,  138,  362,  363,  366,  389, 

460,  488. 
Squealer,  191. 
Stanley,  B.,  564. 
Steel-head,  222. 

Stejneger,  Dr.  L.,  27,  30,  182. 
Stephenson  Lake,  598. 
Stewart's  Island,  71. 
Stick-tail,  222. 
Stiff-tail,  222. 
Stone,  N.  C,  54. 
Stone,  W.,  82-84. 
Stub  and  Twist,  222. 
Suisun  Bay,  464,  465. 
Suisuri  Marsh,  464. 
Surprise,  Lake,  598. 
Susquehanna  Flats,   149,  589. 
Susquehanna  River,  483. 
Swaddle-bill,   133. 
Swan,  Australian  Black,  22. 
Swan,  Common,  22,  34,  35. 
Swan,  Mute,  533. 
Swan,  Trumpeter,  22,  34,  36-38. 
Swan,  Whooping,  35. 
Swans,  21,  22,  33-38,  39,  244-249,  363, 

413,  414-416,  461,  464,  467,  469,  472, 

487,  488,  495,  519,  538- 
Sweden,  196. 
Sylt,  Island  of,  28,  30. 

Tadorna,  30. 

Tangier  Sound,  485. 

Tar  Bay,  485,  487. 

Tarsus,  39. 

Teal,  25,   132,  325,  340,   355,   356,   363. 

365,  368,  375.  376,  462,  488,  507,  535. 
Teal,    Blue-winged,    83,    120,    122-125, 

358,  362,  363,  364,  538,  540. 
Teal,  Cinnamon,  83,  123,  126-130,  538. 
Teal,  European,  ii6,  117. 


INDEX. 


627 


Teal,    Green-winged,    107,    116,    117, 

118-121,    123,   125,    133.   13s.   363.  433. 

535.  538,  539- 
Teal,  Red-breasted,  130,  433. 
Teal,  Scotch,  184. 
Teal,   Spoon-billed,    133. 
Teal,  Summer,  123, 
Texas,  47,  49,  63,  77,  79,  80,  102,  133, 

163,  224,  320,  598. 
Toling,  480,  481. 
Tolleston  Club,  569. 
Tough-head,  222. 
Townsend,  W.,  441,  527. 
Trotter,  W.,  480. 
Truckee  River,  105. 
Trumbull,    G.,    63,   91,    104,    115,    133, 

138,  168,  184,  191,  201,  215,  219,  222. 
Two  Medicine  Lodge  Creek,  52. 

Unguirostres,  20. 

United  States,  22,  23,  30,  31,  35,  37, 
56,  72,  75.  89,  loi,  los,  III,  112,  120, 
127.  13s.  141.  148,  149.  161,  168,  171, 
174,  250,  251,  533,  571,  590. 

Utah,  99. 

Vallisneria  spiralis,   158,  464. 
Van  Dyke,  T.  S.,  355. 
Vermont,  591. 

Virginia,  70,  109,  136,  149,  162,  165, 
274,  280,   548,  574. 


Wescott,  C.  S.,  457. 

West  Indies,  75,  168,  224. 

Whistler,    153,    173-177,    178,    179,   232, 

330.  376,  418,  423,  426,  453,  456,  534. 
Whistler,  Brass-eyed,  177. 
Whistle-wing,  177. 
White-belly,   115. 
White-scop,  219. 
White-wing,  Great  May,  215. 
W^hite-wing,   May,   215. 
Widgeon,  American,  24,  25,  83,    105, 

106,    108,   109,    1 10- 1 1 5,    132,   137,   148, 

355,  363.  365,  390,  462,  480,  481,  486, 

507.  524,  544- 
Widgeon  California,    115. 
Widgeon,  English,  25,  403. 
Widgeon,  European,  107-109,  544. 
Widgeon,  Gray,  106,  138. 
Widgeon,  Green-headed,  115. 
Widgeon,  Sand,  106. 
Widgeon,  Sea,  138. 
Widgeon,  Southern,  115. 
Widgeon,  Spoon-billed,  133. 
Winnipeg,  99. 
Wisconsin,  90,   120,   161,   172,  182,  210, 

224,  560,  563,  567,  568,  592. 
Wool-head,   184. 
Wren,  Marsh,  352,  399. 
Wyoming,    25,   37,   91,    120,    127,    133, 

135,  143.  161,  212,  432. 

Xantus,  Mr.  78. 


Wading  the  Marshes,  430-433. 
Walker,   Dr.,  70. 
Wamp,    201. 
Washington,  35,  253. 
Water-pheasant,  237. 
Waterton,  C,  83. 
Wavy,  Blue,  49. 
Wavy,  Large,  49. 
Wavy,  Small,  49, 


Yarrow,  Dr.  H.  C,  99. 
Yellow-legs,  360,  400. 
Yellowstone  Lake,  37,    143,  212. 
Yellowstone  Park,  22. 
York  Factory,  99. 

Yukon    River,    35,    49,    124,    136,    137; 
179,  182. 

Zostera  marina,  296. 


Uhdtr  Primary  Coatrtt 


Under  Wing  Coot 


Under' Taii  Coveru  or  Critrm» 


BlackDucL 


TOPOGRAPHY  OF  A   DUCK. 

EMISSION    OF    MR.    CHARLES    B.    CORY. 


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